


Friggin' Witches

by salvio__hexia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Hates Witches, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Genderswap, M/M, Sexual Tension, Smut, Spells & Enchantments, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-04-30 18:16:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 28,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14502735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salvio__hexia/pseuds/salvio__hexia
Summary: Rowena requests the help of TFW to take down an elusive witch that is stealing the magic of other witches during the powerful blessing festival of Beltane. An errant spell goes incredibly wrong for the boys.





	1. Dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> I enjoy the idea of a gender swap, so here is my offering.

_Colour swirled behind his eyelids, a storm of blues and golds, dark shadows and wisps of white that crackled with electricity. The smell of the fresh earth on a spring morning made his nostrils flare as he inhaled it deeply._

_Shapes emerged from the billowing colours, the shadows becoming towering trees that filtered out the golden sun above creating a bright green canopy under which he now found himself._

_Dean took in the sight of the forest that surrounded him, turning in a circle. He saw a path through the trees behind him, in the direction that he must have come from. A similar path led the way ahead. He followed along it, feeling the peaceful atmosphere permeate his entire being, right down to his unshod feet._

_He walked until the path opened up to a perfect circle of stamped brown earth. He walked into the centre and raised his head to the sky. Dean took a deep breath, it was like taking air from the trees themselves. He felt strong, as if the roots had grown through the soles of his feet and anchored him there, making him tall; making him_ more.

_He heard the familiar sound of fluttering wings and he lowered his head, his eyes widening to take in the glowing form in front of him. Dean caught the blue eyes staring into his own, and he reached out to cup the face that they belonged to. He would recognize those eyes anywhere._

_Dean ran a thumb over Castiel’s cheek, as the glow dissipated from his form. Dean closed his eyes and leaned in, letting his lips fall softly to his angel’s. In his dreams, he always had the time to kiss Cas unhurriedly. In his dreams, Cas was always_ his _angel. There was no world-ending scenario; no one needed him to rush to their aid. He could afford all the time in the world to kiss Cas sweetly, and for Cas to return the affection just as thoroughly._

_Which was why it was strange that Castiel wasn’t kissing him back this time. Dean pulled back to search his eyes only to find them lowered. He put two fingers under Cas’ chin to bring his head up, and as he did so he could feel the rounded smoothness of it. There was no perpetual shadow of stubble across his jaw. None across his cheeks, or over his upper lip._

_Dean took a full step back and looked at this dream-Cas. The usually wind-swept hair was now long and dark, cascading behind him in a mess of curls. Dean’s eyes traced downwards, over the column of neck, bare, rounded shoulders, to the milky white globes that now sat on Cas’ chest. Eyes roamed over a flat stomach, curved hips, and a thatch of dark hair between Castiel’s strong thighs. Long, and now hairless, legs ended in two beautiful feet._

_This was new. Has his subconscious finally had enough of his waking guilt over dreaming of his best friend..._ like that _that it decided to do its level best to at least provide him a version of Cas that would make him feel less ashamed of his actions in the morning?_

_One more look into the angel’s eyes told him no. No, his subconscious might have been giving him Cas in a vessel that was more familiar for Dean to touch, but he would be a fool to proceed as if this wasn’t still Castiel. Angel of the Lord. And damn if that didn’t make it a bit hotter._

_Dean stepped closer again, still silent. He reached out to slip his hands around the back of Cas’ neck, to bring his lips back to Cas’ lips. He was pleased when he could feel Cas kissing him back this time, and he breathed out a rumbling of satisfaction against them._

_Dean let one of his hands wander, ghosting the tips of his fingers down Castiel’s side, making sure to take the time to trace the side of the breast as he swallowed the sounds that Cas made against his mouth. Every hitching of breath, or quiet, breathy moan as Dean explored Cas’ body was tightening the coil of his arousal. He was so hard, and Castiel hadn’t even touched him._

_Dean moved in closer still, and pressed his hard, unclothed length to the smooth skin of Cas’ abdomen. Castiel gasped and finally put his hands on Dean’s lower back, locking Dean’s erection firmly between them._

_“Mmmm...” he hummed in approval against Castiel’s lips, “Yeah Cas...”_

_He moved his hips, pressing himself tightly against the angel. He was hardly allowing himself the friction he would need to get off._

_He moaned out Cas’s name. Hands finding a home again in Castiel’s long, dark locks. His dream-Cas moaned with him, a higher and breathier sound than Dean was used to hearing._

_“Cas...” Dean breathed out again, “Oh Cas...”_

_“Dean...” Cas whispered tenderly into his skin._

_They were kissing again, lips parting and tongues tangling together. In Dean’s dreams, Cas’ mouth tasted like the finest whiskey, his scent like a smoky cedar, filling all of his senses. His arousal was heady, and he could feel himself smearing the evidence across Cas’s abdomen as he rocked his hips slightly._

_“Cas...Cas, oh fuck Cas”, he chanted._

_“Dean,” Cas responded in kind, seeming to voice the same arousal as Dean dipped his hand lower, wanting to slide his fingers through the patch of hair there and feel that arousal for himself._

_“...Dean...”_

_And suddenly the image of Cas was ripped away, the entire floor of the forest was shaking apart._

_“Dean...” He could hear Cas calling him, but he couldn’t see his angel any longer as the forest started to dim._

_“Dean!”_

“...DEAN...”

Dean blinked his eyes open and tried to slow his breathing. Well, this was going to be awkward, seeing as he just had a sex dream about his best friend. How he was going to hide what he knew was going to be a towering erection, he had no idea, but Cas was still shaking him.

“Okay, okay, dude knock it off...” He started sleepily and rolled over onto his side, bunching the covers up over his lower half.

He scrubbed a hand down his face, willing himself to calm down.

“Rowena is here,” Cas continued, “and she wishes an audience with us. She’s in the war room. Sam made coffee.”

“Well thank fuck for that. Alright, Sunshine, gimme a minute to...” _calm my giant hard on from the totally inappropriate sex dream featuring you in a naked female body,_ Dean finished in his head.

Castiel was already headed towards the open door and back out into the hall.

Dean grumbled lowly, and pushed himself so he was sitting at the end of the bed. He would have loved nothing more than to be able to afford another ten minutes to himself in his bed to take care of himself, but opted for a quick pep talk, staring at his lap.

“Okay buddy, listen up. I’m pretty good to you, so I need you to stop acting like you’ve never seen someone naked before. We can _reconvene_ on this issue a little later.” Dean tried to conjure up an image of something, anything, that would keep his mind off of where his hand had almost ended up, in his dream.

After a few deep breaths and his mind back on some of the lore he had been reading over last night before bed, he finally felt like he would be able to slip on a pair of sweats without embarrassing himself. He picked up a t-shirt from the floor and gave it the smell test before using that to cover his torso, and prepared himself to face Rowena. 

Coffee first, though. Friggin’ witches.


	2. Request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to post the first 2 chapters so you can have some context, and also because I am impatient.

“Rowena, to what do we owe the absolute pleasure?” Dean ground out sarcastically, reaching to pull out a chair for himself across from her and Sam. 

“And good morning to you too, handsome.” She quipped back, looking up at him through her long lashes.

She folded her hands on the table in front of her before continuing.

“Now that the gang’s all here, I do have something I would like to discuss with you. As much as it hurts me to have to seek the help of _hunters_ ,” she said with disdain, “I don’t have much of a choice. I am but one woman...albeit a very _powerful_ and _fearsome_ –”

“Alright,” Dean interrupted, raising his palm in the air, “you can stop your posturing, we’re already intrigued.”

She took a dainty sip of her tea, intent on stretching this out.

“As you may already know, Beltane is upon us, which is the reason for my visit on such short notice. It took me a few years to figure this out, but it seems that there is a very strong force in the area that is responsible for witches being completely drained of their gifts of magic.”

“And this is something that is only happening during...Belting?” Dean asked, his eyes narrowed as he fumbled the pronunciation.

“Bell-tane” Castiel repeated slowly, “Typically, a celebration on May first each year as a blessing festival for the protection of cattle, crops, and people.”

Sam excused himself from the table to bring over a stack of books.

“There is tons of lore on this celebration; witches have always been pretty accessible, as far as the Men of Letters are concerned.” He said, with enthusiasm as he passed around some of the dusty tomes. “A lot of them aren’t so bad.”

Rowena clutched her hand over her heart and squealed out, “Oh, Samuel, I didn’t think you’d _ever_ notice.” 

He rolled his eyes at her clear sarcasm.

“It’s still just Sam.” He ground out, “So what do you need our help with? How are we supposed to stop a force that’s siphoning off witches magic?”

Rowena looked at all three of them in turn before she said seriously,

“Are you not the boys that everyone turns to for help when the world is about to end?”

There was an indignant chorus from all of them of and worried glances were shared as they tried to contemplate how this was an apocalyptic event.

“Are you serious right now, Rowena?” Sam said, glancing at a frantic-looking Castiel, and Dean, with his head in his hands.

“Meta _phorically_ ending,” She countered loftily, “Not to mention then very real ending of some of my magical brethren, of course. You know, it drives some of them _mad_.

For the past several years, I have been tracking this power. It is hard to do, because it is only at its strongest on the night of Beltane, when the bonfires have been lit. I’ve been following the trail of broken witches in its wake all the way from Edinburgh eight years ago. I had been taking my turn to walk between the bonfires, and taking in the blessing when all of the sudden there was shouting, an incantation that I hadn’t been able to identify, and then a flash of lights. Then the screams...” She shuddered,

“By the time I could make head or tails of what happened, there was Sister Valentine, a quivering heap in the grass, clawing off her own face.” Rowena finished abruptly.

Rowena went on to describe the bits of incantation she was able to discern over the years, from either her first hand experiences or the experiences of others which drew her to the conclusion that there was someone out there that was using spells from an old and very powerful spellbook. 

“Naturally.” Castiel injected with a snarky eye-roll that Dean chuckled at proudly.

“That’s not even the best part, Angel. Not only have I figured out from which book it is they are invoking, I have also come to the conclusion that they are bastardizing some of the original text, bending its meaning into something malicious.” Rowena surmised. “It’s a typical binding spell, but a binding spell isn’t designed to transfer one witches power to another source.”

“So, something nice and easy Rowena, thanks.” Dean said, as he shut the book he was looking over, bringing their meeting to a close as he then delegated the tasks for preparedness.

It was late afternoon before they all came together again. There was a half-ass plan in place, and they were now enveloped in the calm before the storm. Rowena had taken her leave by then, promising to come for them tomorrow, and instructing them on how to put together more powerful hex bags.

It was nearing midnight when the boys went their separate ways into their rooms. Dean was sitting at the end of the bed, flexing his sore hands when there was a knock at his door. _Cas was always so polite, he even knocks politely_ , Dean thought as he made his way over to the door. It seemed that ever since Castiel had come to stay at the bunker permanently, he was less...frantic. He displayed a calmer demeanor than Dean had ever seen. It was like he was more relaxed, and it was about _damn_ time for that. 

What he didn’t expect, was that having Castiel so close all the time would bring Dean’s long- and seemingly well-hidden feelings for him to come bubbling to the near surface. Not quite being obvious, but not doing much to hide his thinly-veiled flirtations with the angel. These feelings weren’t limited to the bedroom, either. There was a whole mess of emotions in there with Castiel’s name written all over them. There were times when the domesticity of it all would hit him out of the blue, and he was surprisingly fine with it. Cas was just someone else for Dean to have to look out for. He had told him more than once that he was family, he was like a brother. Well, maybe less like a brother, and more like a... _kissing cousin_.

When Dean opened the door, Castiel was propped casually against the doorframe. Dean gave him a blatant once over, taking in the absence of his coat and suit jacket, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, arms crossed in front of his chest. He even had the top two buttons undone, and his tie was askew in a way that made him look deliciously disheveled.

As he noticed Dean staring, he crossed his arms and cleared his throat. 

“My eyes are up here Dean.” He said lowly, and as Dean roved his eyes slowly to meet the other mans, Cas hitched his brow.

“They sure are,” Dean breathed, and his cheeks pinked as he realized he had spoken aloud. Huffing out a laugh, he rubbed the back of his neck and stepped away from the door so Cas could follow him inside. 

“I already offered this to Sam, but would you also allow me to heal your hands? I know how hard you both worked to ready our supplies.” He held out his hands to take Dean’s.

Dean held his out silently, and Castiel cupped his hands around the backs of them, instantly pushing tendrils of warmth through them. Dean closed his eyes and bowed his head as he could feel the aching subside, the tense muscles relaxing. Dean let out a contented sigh as he felt the warmth start to retreat, which was far too soon for his liking. He opened his eyes and looked up. Castiel was very close, so close that Dean had no trouble scenting the earthy, woodsy smell that he associated with him. Dean couldn’t help himself as he felt his eyes zero in on his lips, before flicking back up to meet Cas’ narrowed gaze. He regarded Dean curiously before clearing his throat again and dropping his hands.

“Goodnight Dean.” He said, backing out of the room slowly, a small smile drifting across his lips. And it was only as he shut Dean’s door that Dean blew out a deep breath, realizing how long he had been holding it. 

That night he dreamed of blue eyes and warm hands that caressed his body. There was only one word on his lips.


	3. Beltane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, my updates are sporadic at best just because of who I am as a person. Keep reading though, it's getting good! Chapter 3 and 4 are going to be posted together because I don't want to leave you hanging too badly.

Morning came much too fast for anyone’s liking. They all sat around the table in the war room with their coffees, lore books back open in front of them, discussing some of the muddier points of the plan. As usual, Dean was unwilling to compromise on Sam’s safety and Castiel was unwilling to compromise on Dean’s. Tensions were still running high when Rowena arrived and she took in the scene in exasperation. It didn’t take long after that until she had them calmed down and corralled into the Impala. Castiel was designated as navigator this time, to keep the brothers from bickering.

_The Plan_ was discussed in more detail as they drove, and it was fairly simple, for all its initial half-assery: they needed to get to the site of the Beltane ceremony as it was nearing dark and they were beginning to light the bonfires. They would play along, enjoy in the festivities, people watch or—

“Witch watch.” Dean offered, and then repeated it often throughout the conversation until it had lost all meaning.

It was always during the final prayer that Rowena said she could feel the foreign powers churning and drawing together. She had surmised that with a typical binding spell, the caster may have to be in a relatively close proximity to the witch laying the blessing. It was made more complicated when Rowena described another reason for the caster to get so close to their intended prey. 

“To corrupt a binding spell,” Rowena explained, “the offending witch must also be using soul magic, a very powerful and dangerously unstable magic that will enable the caster to seal it within themselves, binding the stolen magic to their very being.” 

To counter this, Rowena was set to invoke the Gaelic Obliteration spell that she had once tried to use on Dean, to her detriment. That spell in itself was very powerful, and she told them she had tweaked it minutely by intending to use the blood of her fallen sisters to ink the marks on her body. This drew the typical disgusted looks from the boys.

“It won’t restore any of the stolen powers, but it will be enough to completely destroy the one responsible for this.” She growled. A flare of anger appeared in her eyes and darkened them.

* * * * *

They arrived with enough time to find a greasy, off-road diner to get something to eat and clothe themselves in attire fitting enough for an ancient celebration of blessing.

Dean felt ridiculous in the baggy yoga-type pants with elastic at the bottom cuffs, and billowy heather grey tunic. It was so far into the left field of outfit choices. He refused to go barefoot, like Sam and Rowena, so he opted for a pair of canvas sneakers. He turned left and right in front of the diner bathroom mirror, catching a glimpse of how _kinda_ perfect his ass looked in the pants.

“Hot damn...” He murmured, as he reached both hands down to cup it. He heard Sam snicker from the stall he was in.

He was still preening when he heard the other stall door open. Dean turned and watched Castiel come out, similarly dressed. He was wearing the same style of pants as Dean’s, only Cas’ tunic was a periwinkle blue. It made his eyes sparkle even under the dim bathroom lights.

Dean watched as Castiel’s eyes dropped over his open necked shirt, his chest, and Dean _knows for a fact_ that Cas’ eyes lingered a little longer near the front of his ridiculous pants. Dean felt his face grow hot as the blush crept across his cheeks. When Cas looked back at him, it had spread to his ears and he huffed out a little embarrassed laugh. 

“C’mere Cas,” Dean gestured for him to come closer, “I’m just gonna...” He trailed off as he raised a hand towards Castiel’s hair and ran his hand through it, his other hand steadying him by grasping his upper arm. He made sure to tousle it so it looked like it did that first night when Cas had come barreling into the barn. As Dean stepped back from his task, he caught Cas’s eye and winked. 

As he turned away to go back to their table, he caught Cas examining his new hairstyle in the mirror. He smiled all the way back to where his burger and fries were waiting for him. He caught Rowena smirking at him from across the table.

“You’ve got it bad for that Angel, don’t you.” She said knowingly. 

Dean took a large bite of his food to avoid the question entirely. 

When Sam and Castiel returned to the table, talk turned to the other fire festivals that Rowena had attended and she told them her stories until the afternoon sun began to wane towards evening. They emerged from the diner and headed over to the Impala, where Rowena would begin to mark herself with the symbols necessary for her part of the spell to be complete.

They arrived in the clearing while the celebration was gearing up to full swing. The pyres were beginning to blaze, there were revellers dancing around the Maypole, which was decorated with ribbons and flower chains. There was a group that had circled around a troupe performing a fire routine, tables laden with refreshments; music and chanting filled in the remainder of the noise. 

A few men and women converged on the new arrivals to place fragrant flower crowns on their heads.

Dean spared a glance at Cas to see him watching as Dean accepted his crown gracefully. A wide smile had spread across his face.

“It suits you, Dean. You look...very handsome.”

“I feel like a hippy.” Dean brushed the compliment aside with a laugh.

Rowena linked one hand around Sam’s arm, and her other around Dean’s, leaving Dean to wrap his hand around Castiel’s and they made their way into the thick of the crowd.

A few hours later, Dean was watching as men and women started filtering between the two fires. Some walking and moving their lips in prayer, some dancing through twirling and laughing. Sparks from the crackling wood rose up as if offering themselves to the stars above. He had been hearing different and louder chanting throughout the night, but when he looked for Rowena, he could see she was as yet unaffected by what was being said. 

Castiel came up from behind some time later and grasped Dean’s arm. He was alarmed at the look on his face.

“Dean, can you feel it?” He asked, eyes darting around to the crowd.

Dean was instantly on alert. His eyes scanned the crowd, looking for something, anything that seemed amiss. There was definitely a palpable change in the air. He could hear the chanting of the final prayer and looked towards the witch who was leading it. He spared a moment of regret for the witch-killing bullets that he had left in the trunk, but took a firm grip on Cas’s hand and followed Rowena and Sam, who he noticed had begun to move forwards.

They could now hear another chanting underneath, and it sounded very dark. A look backwards to the crowd told Dean that the others could hear it too and some of them were backing away. 

Castiel shook his hand from Dean’s grip and surged forwards.

“Shit, no, Cas!” He called out to the angel, but he continued on. He must have seen something that Dean didn’t. 

Lights, other than the light of the fire, flared up and suddenly Dean was fighting against a crowd of bodies scrambling backwards. He tried to push himself upstream of them, stumbling. The chanting grew louder, the light darkling and sparking in a sinister way.

He watched as several things happened at once. Sam had grabbed Dean’s arm to steady him, as well as restrain him as he watched Castiel push someone out of the way. The blessing was cut off abruptly as the witch fell to the ground. As Castiel pushed, a hand grabbed his arm, and Rowena began her chanting; a purple light began pulsing from the marks on her skin. She thrust the energy forwards towards her target and Dean broke away from Sam’s hold, running at full speed towards Castiel. As he tackled Cas to the ground, he could see a flash and the light rolled over both Sam and Rowena. He felt a jolt as the light sparked around and over him as well and he collapsed into unconsciousness where he had fallen on Castiel.


	4. Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things will get a bit NSFW in the next chapter, which I was reluctant to do simply because I'm not sure if people will accept some F/F when I know we are all here for the M/M ;)

It felt like it could have been hours, but it was probably only minutes that Dean had been out. He could feel something soft under his cheek. He remembered throwing himself at Cas before the darkness overtook him. Dean rolled off onto his back and opened his eyes to the sky above.

He could still see the flickering flames in his peripherals, but the sound of the fire snapping and popping was the only thing he could hear. He sat up slowly and turned his head. He could see Sam slumped over on the ground far to his left, and he knew Cas was beside him. Rowena was nowhere to be seen, and neither was the witch who had grabbed Cas.

“Sam,” Dean called, a strange pitch to his voice. He cleared his throat and tried again.

“Sam?” 

He heard a groan from his brother, who had begun to move. Dean turned and gave Cas a shake.

“C’mon Sunshine, up and at ‘em.” 

Dean got up on his feet, still looking around for Rowena. He felt oddly unbalanced and his body was tender. He could feel that his flower crown was in tatters and tickling the back of his neck. 

“Dean?” He heard softly from the direction where Sam had been laying. 

Dean turned towards him, intending to ask how Sam was feeling but the question died in his mouth as he took in his brother’s appearance. The first thing he noticed was Sam’s face, devoid of the scruff he had let grow there. His brows were less severe, his cheekbones more pronounced. The cut of his shoulders was softer and there was a distinct swell of breasts beneath Sam’s copper-coloured tunic. 

“Sam, what the hell?” Dean asked with wide eyes as he tried to make any kind of sense of what he was seeing before him.

Sam gaped, his plump lips falling open in shock as his brow furrowed. He lifted a hand and ran it through his hair. Feeling its new length, he let both hands drift over his face. A panicked look came over his eyes as he made to grab the new additions to his chest. He stuttered out a few half-words but then fell into silence.

Castiel was still lying in the grass but when Dean went over to him, he saw that his eyes were open and he was staring into the night sky.

“Something...happened, didn’t it.” It wasn’t a question. “I-I don’t...feel quite like myself.”

Dean looked down at the differences in his face, noting that Cas looked quite similar to how he appeared to Dean in his dream the other night. Long, shining dark locks, round face, _softer_. 

“Yeah, Cas, something _did_ happen.” He said as he reached out to take his hand to assist him in standing.

Castiel examined Dean then, squinting and tipping his head to the side as he contemplated the new planes of his face. Dean watched as Cas raised a hand to his own face and reached out with his other to smooth over Dean’s jaw, eyes connected the entire time. They both jumped as the silence was broken by Sam, who had stood up shakily, clearing his throat. 

“Where did Rowena end up?” He asked, looking around. “And the other one?”

Dean and Castiel stepped away from each other and began to look around the area. In the dimming firelight they could see the detritus of a hasty departure. Flower petals were strewn around the clearing, quite a few pieces of costuming could be seen. The previously laden tables had been knocked aside. Tents were now emptied and silent. There was no sign of Rowena, or anyone else. 

Castiel was examining the ground around where they had all been laying and he stopped to pick something up out of the grass. Dangling from his fingers was a charm of some sort. It felt warm to the touch, and made his fingers buzz with hidden electricity. He pocketed it quickly and made his way back over to the brothers.

“Let’s get the hell out of here. I need a drink. Or like, multiple drinks.” Dean said in an attempt to growl. He spun on his heel and began walking through the clearing, headed back to the car. 

Castiel could feel the charge of Dean’s anger and lingered behind him, following at length. They were all stumbling as they drew closer to the Impala, thanks to the new proportions of their bodies as well as the exhaustion that was setting in. The stars were beginning to dim and Castiel could sense the sunrise on the horizon. 

Dean was particularly gorgeous when he was angry, the flush in his cheeks and the spark in his eye. The way he looked dangerous and righteous at the same time. Unbeknownst to Dean, it had caused many a fluttering feeling in Cas’ chest, and even though he was prone to lashing out when he was like this, Castiel still thought Dean beautiful. He watched him then, as Dean looked into his reflection in the car window.

Dean sighed deeply, closing his eyes. Without another word, he opened the door and sat heavily behind the wheel. In the silence of the ride home, Cas felt himself drifting. Not quite sleeping, but not awake. It was a surprise when he felt the car come to a stop inside the bunkers garage and he heard soft voices from the front.

“Let’s just get some sleep and figure this out with a fresh mind, Dean. Sam placated. “I have nothing left in me right now to figure this out.” He sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands. He looked towards the backseat where Cas was curled over on his side.

Another deep sigh from Sam, and he reached to let himself out of the car. Dean watched as Sam walked heavily out of the garage.

“Cas, you awake back there?” Dean asked quietly. 

It took a few tries to affirm to him that he was. As he struggled for the door handle, Dean chuckled before speaking again, all his previous anger had gone.

“C’mon then, I’ll get you to bed, rest up.” Dean stepped out and opened the back door so he could take Castiel by the hand. 

He led him through the garage and the darkened corridors of the bunker’s living space before coming to a stop at his bedroom door and ushering Cas inside. He spared a look down the hall at the closed door to the room that Cas had claimed as his own, but decided to be a bit selfish in his desire to keep him closer than next door. Closing his own door behind him, he flashed a sheepish smile at Castiel and walked to his dresser to liberate a pair of sweats and t-shirts for them both.

As they changed, backs turned to each other, Dean asked haltingly in his new voice “Did you—uh, I mean, would you...stay here? To sleep, or meditate, or whatever?” 

He heard Cas hum an assent, and he turned to look at him. Dean felt very exposed as he watched Cas ogle him in his new body. Dean’s shirt was very tight across the breasts that he had been newly blessed with, and the sweatpants were sitting in an unfamiliar way on his hips. He was tempted to remind Cas where exactly his eyes were, but he wasn’t in the mood for humour at this point. He was tired, and overwhelmed, and...

Dean crawled into bed, shimmying over so Cas would have some space to lay as well. Dean switched the light off and turned onto his side, facing Cas, who was laying on his back. Dean didn’t even think twice before reaching his hand out to search for one of Castiel’s. 

“Do you mind?” Dean whispered.

“No, Dean.” Cas whispered back.

“Night, Cas.”

Dean thought he could hear the smile in his voice as he whispered back “Goodnight Dean.”

Sleep overtook them quickly.


	5. Vessels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lil bit NSFW right here...

Dean knew he should feel a little guilty when he awoke to find himself fully wrapped around Cas, but it wasn’t like it was a conscious move he had made. At first, he tensed up and made to move away because if he woke up in the state he usually found himself waking up in, this would get incredibly awkward incredibly quickly. One of his top morning fantasies was being able to press his hard length against Castiel, and for him to reciprocate in kind. Bringing each other to completion lazily, and half awake. Dean was definitely aroused, but he was grateful that there was no embarrassing evidence of it. 

He extricated himself from his hold around Cas and stretched out before rolling from the bed. He avoided looking in the mirror above his sink and lowered his eyes as he began to collect something to wear. Holding up a pair of jeans, he wondered if they would fit the same. He opted instead for the same sweats he had worn to bed and a new shirt. He was going to need something that was going to fit tighter around his...he looked down.

Hesitating as he made to reach into his underwear drawer, he settled for grabbing a new pair of boxer briefs as well, and he slipped from the room and down to the showers. He locked himself in and began to disrobe in front of the full length mirror.

The first thing he noticed was his hair. It fell in a golden cascade that reached the middle of his back. He ran his hands through it and marvelled at the silky feeling of it. It hadn’t been the flower crown that was tickling him last night, then. His brows were shapelier, sitting above familiar bottle-green eyes. The structure of his face was smoothed out, his skin was flawless. He noticed that his chin and jaw line were of the same softness as Sam’s and Castiel’s. No stubble, which made it look like he had acquired even more freckles. His neck seemed longer and he traced the dip where his adam’s apple should have been. His shoulders were narrower, his collar bones more pronounced. The breasts that now protruded from his chest were firm and round, his nipples perked up as he cupped his hands underneath, grazing them with his thumbs. Ignoring the hitch in his breath, he continued his exploration. He had been right to think that his jeans were a lost cause for the time being, as he examined the swell and curve of his hips. 

He knew that he shouldn’t be surprised by it, but as he allowed his gaze to fall lower, he was still taken aback by the absence of his dick between his legs. Finding instead a tidy patch of hair that concealed him from the mirrors view. Dean let his hands wander down over his stomach, watching them in the mirror as he let one graze over the soft mound below. His breathing had picked up again as he pushed harder against it, his index and middle finger grazing against a warm, slippery-wet nub and he gasped at the sensation. 

Biting his lip, he braced his other hand on the wall beside the mirror and slid his fingers over it again with a bit more pressure. It increased his arousal exponentially as he gave a half-thought to how wet he was becoming. His breathing was becoming more erratic as he rocked his new form onto his fingers. All it took was one well-timed flick and he felt his body lock up and tremble through the most incredible and powerful orgasm he could recall in recent memory. He kept his eyes shut as he panted through the aftershocks of it. 

A door slamming down the hall broke him out of the post-orgasmic haze that was clouding his brain, and it prompted him to walk on shaky legs to the stall to run the water to an acceptable degree before stepping in to clean off the previous night, and to get him ready for whatever the hell else was in store for today. 

Dean made his way into the kitchen. Sam was seated at the table with a mirror in his hands, just staring at himself. 

“Morning Sam...antha.” Dean chuckled, as he promptly poured himself a coffee and arranged himself at the table across from his brother.

Sam just gave Dean a dark look and sighed as he continued examining himself. Nothing else was said until Sam put the mirror down on the table and ran his hands through his hair before he began to speak. 

“Okay, so, clearly something went wrong somewhere. We had those hex bags, which should have protected us.” He mused. “Have you heard from Rowena? Has she called or made contact with you in any way?” 

Dean shook his head in a negative and nursed his coffee, his mind turning to the hex bags that he knew he followed Rowena’s instructions on. To the letter. 

“Looks like we’re on our own for awhile, Sammy. I don’t think we actually stopped anything last night, aside from maybe saving that witch that was laying the last blessing. Cas pushed her out of the way pretty good.” Dean cleared his throat, “It’s so weird hearing myself sound like this.”

“Tell me about it,” Sam agreed. “And you know how hard it is to sleep with boobs?”

“Right?” Dean sympathized, laughing with Sam. 

When they sobered, Sam asked after Cas. 

“We just went to sleep, Sam. I think the general consensus was for us to figure this out after a good night’s rest. I’ll go check on him, and then I guess we better make arrangements to find where Rowena ended up.”

Sam nodded and stood from the table. They agreed to meet in the library and pour over any books relating to witchcraft. If she didn’t answer her phone when they called, they would have to break out the summoning spells. 

Dean opened the door to his room quietly, peeking his head around the frame. 

“Cas, you awake?” He called to the lump of blankets on his bed. 

“No.” Came a muffled reply. 

Dean moved in and sat at the edge of his bed and he hesitantly laid a hand on the part of the lump he most likely figured to be a leg.

“C’mon, we’re going to do a little research and try and contact Rowena.”

Cas lifted the blankets from his head and turned to face Dean. He was again taken aback by the changes to his best friend’s appearance.

Castiel’s sleep rumpled hair was tangled around his face, which featured pinked cheeks and pillow lines that Dean couldn’t help but smile at. Cas manoeuvred himself out of the twist of blankets to sit beside Dean. He looked down at his hands and spoke in a clear, bell-like voice:

“I can’t feel my grace, Dean. I mean...I can... _remember_ the feeling of it, but I can’t get to it. It’s like this vessel has locked it out.” 

Castiel fidgeted as he looked to his hands. He sounded ashamed by this revelation, and it prompted Dean into caretaker mode. He gathered the angel into his arms, wrapping up his slender new frame and smoothing a hand up and down his back, trying to be comforting as a thrill of the contact made its way through Dean’s chest.

“Hey, it will be okay. We’re gonna figure this out just like we figure everything else out. You just get the added bonus of getting it figured out as a human, with the rest of us humans.” He soothed, with a smile on his face as he felt Cas’ arms come up to reciprocate the hug. 

Dean tucked Castiel’s head into the crook between his neck and shoulder and boldly pressed his nose into his hair, inhaling silently. The cedar and sunshine smell of him was still present, and it grounded Dean in the face of everything else. He kept his arms around Cas for a few moments longer than probably necessary, but Dean told himself it was in the name of comfort for his friend. 

Castiel pulled back and looked owlishly into Dean’s eyes and he could read the resignation there, as well as the gratefulness that accompanied Dean’s comfort. Something else flashed in them, as Castiel strengthened his resolve and moved to rise fully from the bed. Dean caught his wrist as he began to turn away, stilling him.

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He had a feeling that if it did, it would be the ever-present declaration of the _something more_ that was always sitting at the tip of his tongue. 

_Yeah,_ Dean scoffed inside his own head; _let’s not do that right now. One thing at a time, Winchester. Focus._

He let Castiel shake his hand loose from Dean’s grip and he turned away. Dean took the opportunity and stood as well, letting Cas know to meet them in the library when he was ready.


	6. Strength

Dean made his way to the table where Sam had piled books and files from the bunker’s archives. He picked up the topmost volume and sat down with a pad of paper and opened the dusty front cover. 

Sam entered the room with another armful of manila-coloured file folders and stacked them on the table as well.

“This isn’t even everything that they have collected on witch lore.” Sam said, as he noticed Dean eyeing the new pile.

“I don’t suppose there’s a book in that pile called ‘So You’ve Been Turned into a Girl by Some Errant Witchcraft’?” Dean asked, hopefully.

“Ha!” Sam barked out, “I’ll let you know if I find that particular volume.” And he sat down across from Dean with a book of his own. “And I haven’t been able to reach Rowena by phone, so that’s great.” He continued with a snarky edge in his voice. “Is Cas up?”

“Yeah, he uh, his grace is restricted. Says he can feel it, but it’s locked up. So, let’s not draw attention to it or anything, he looked” _...beautiful, he looked beautiful, all sleep-warm and glowing skin._ Dean shook his head and coughed, finishing weakly “...really upset.”

He took the fact that Rowena was unreachable in stride. It’s not like he expected her to show up at their door or anything. They would just have to be extra unmerciful when summoning her later on. 

Dean looked back down to the book, eyes moving over the words without really seeing what he was reading. He noticed Sam doing the same, and Dean was afforded a few minutes of silence between them to think. He knew being in love with Cas was a bad idea. Especially right now. Especially _ever_. With danger looming ever present in their lives, even when things were calm enough that they could afford to help people like Rowena, it was just a bad idea to pine for your best friend.

The first time Dean realized he was probably in love with Castiel was after Zachariah had tossed Dean five years into the future, and he had seen for himself the shell of the angel Cas had become. Drugged out and broken, making his futility and relevance into a joke. Dean knows that Castiel died that day, following future-him into that warehouse to face off against Lucifer. 

It was all Dean could do to not throw himself around Cas as he reminded Dean, with a smile, that they had an appointment. It was still a few days after that, though, that he could even put a name to the feeling inside his chest whenever he saw or thought of the angel. 

Fast forward to the present, and he got to have Cas around all the time; living in the bunker with him and Sam, teaching him things like how to clean their weapons and vehicle maintenance, and having his help to catalogue things around the bunker. Add to that, they actually got to have _conversations_ now about anything and everything, from their favourite places they had ever hunted or where to find the best pie. There were many quiet nights where they would curl up in the chairs in the library and Castiel would tell him stories of the things he had lived through, days long past. Dean would look into his sapphire eyes and hang on to his every word.

His smile would light up his face when he remembered something that Dean would find amusing. The way his eyes would shine and crinkle up at the corners. Dean’s heart would skip a beat on the occasions that he actually got Castiel to laugh.

“Um, Dean?” Sam broke through his thoughts with a tinkling giggle “What are you doing?” 

Dean slowly became more aware of his actions, pulling his gaze back in from where it was currently staring off at nothing, feeling his fingers twirling a strand of his long hair. He blushed and muttered with a scowl “Shut up Sam.”

They heard movement around the corner and they watched as Cas padded into the room, coffee cup filled, and a determined expression was set across his face. He nodded at Sam and Dean and took a seat, pulling a few files close so he could help research. 

“Do we know why the hex bags weren’t helpful?” Cas asked, as he pulled over an empty pad of paper.

Both Sam and Dean shook their heads. 

“I only have theories at this point,” said Sam, “and I think that either this kind of magic was just too... _extra_ for the ingredients in the bags to compensate, or when the witch grabbed at you, Cas, it was something that reacted with your grace. Which might explain why you can’t feel it right now.” He went on, with a sheepish look as he glanced at Castiel’s face, which was now turned down, his eyes glued to the table.

Dean reached out a hand and grasped Cas’s shoulder, offering a bit more comfort to the angel.

“Maybe it’s kind of like the way your grace reacts to the soul?” Dean suggested, “I mean, that witch was using soul magic and without really meaning to, your grace tried to compensate for something. Maybe this,” as he gestured up and down his own body, “was a _best-case_ scenario.”

The room fell silent again except for the occasional sharing of thoughts or tidbits they had read over. It was just nearing nine when Sam dropped the book he was looking through with a thump. His hands weaved into his hair and he called it.

“Okay, I am officially done. There is nothing written about any spell ever performed _ever_ that has changed the recipient’s gender. And while they reference _soul magic_ , there is nothing much written about it.”

“There wouldn’t be,” Cas interjected, “soul magic is the most taboo kind that exists. It’s something even angels aren’t permitted to practice outside of extraordinary circumstances, and even then it’s not precise. As we don’t have souls.”

They began to set aside the books that had been unhelpful, and gathering up all their own notes. Sam began making another list, stating that he was starving and would make a run to pick them all up something to eat. 

“For the love of all that is holy, Sam, would you please find some freakin’ pie? If there was ever a situation calling for pie, this would be it.” Dean called out as Sam was heading out to the garage. Sam rolled his eyes and tossed his long hair but assented. 

Dean turned back to Cas, who was still sitting at the table, hands folded on the top, eyes cast downwards yet again which did not sit well with Dean at all.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Dean asked, walking around the back of Castiel’s chair and putting his much smaller hands on his shoulders, squeezing tentatively. Dean began to work his hands in a massage-like motion, thumbs swiping upwards at the tights muscles in Cas’ slender neck.

Cas sighed as he began to feel the tension melt away. He took a few moments to lose himself in the rhythm of Dean’s hands before he spoke up, “I feel really useless. I have no grace, no way to protect you and Sam; I’m in an unfamiliar vessel and...things feel _different_.”

It hurt Dean to know that Cas felt this way, like he wasn’t worth anything without his grace, or the ability to strike down an enemy with his strength. He knew Cas was good in a fight, and he told him so, recalling to mind the time that Cas was able to hold his own against an angel and kill him while he was living on the street. Dean didn’t like using that as an example because it also reminded him of the look on Cas’ face when he told him he would have to leave the bunker.

He shook off those thoughts and grabbed Cas’ hand, tugging him up from the chair. He threw Dean a confused look, eyes narrowing in a way that had butterflies erupt in Dean’s stomach. 

“C’mon Cas,” Dean started, pulling him away and into a comfortable lounge-room they had begun to furnish as a comfortable place to relax and unwind. Decorated already by a large couch and a plush area rug, where Dean pulled Cas to the middle of. 

“You are not useless. You are not weak, and” He started, looking into Cas’ eyes. “your angel-powers are NOT the reason why we asked you to stay here.” He dropped Cas’ hand and stepped back, keeping his eyes locked on Castiel’s. 

“Now, it’s been awhile since I’ve done this for fun, but I’m hoping that maybe it will prove to you that you can rely on human strength and still get the job done. So,” Dean pursed his plump lips and started to circle around Cas, “fight me.” He finished with a flirty smile. 

“Fight you.” Castiel repeated flatly, following Dean, as he continued pacing the circle, turning Castiel into prey. 

“Yeah. Show me what you got. It’s not all angel-mojo and smitey-looks, Cas, as hot as they are.” Dean confessed, letting his smile turn predatory. 

Dean continued his circling. He couldn’t help but feel a little selfish in his request, because he really couldn’t wait for the excuse of having Castiel’s hands all over him. And while he might become aroused— _who am I kidding_ , he thought, _I’m already aroused_ — at least he wouldn’t embarrass himself by getting hard. 

He was about to open his mouth again to goad Cas into the roughhousing, when he noticed something change in Cas’ face. There was a flush high in his cheeks and a calculating look in his eyes as he watched Dean tighten the circle. 

It was almost imperceptible, the coiling of Castiel’s lithe new body. Dean stopped in front of him and dropped a single wink.

As if that was the cue, he watched as Castiel pounced forwards.


	7. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to update looooong before now, but my ol' bessie laptop is slowly and surely dying of a crap hard drive so there's only so much frustration I can handle having to reboot it time and time again. I'm committed to this story, however, because I have so many other ideas in my head and I can't start them while I'm still writing this one. And I don't want to make a reputation for myself as someone who just leaves the readers hanging. That's rude.

Dean had prepared himself to be tackled, arms out to absorb the shock of Castiel launching himself towards his midsection, but he didn’t prepare to be instantly taken down, his back hitting the soft rug as the angel landed on top of him. He allowed a half-second of orientation before both of his hands came up to grasp Castiel’s shoulders and pushed, using his momentum to roll them over so Dean was straddled atop of him. He sat up, exposing his entire solar plexus, which Cas immediately took advantage of and swung out awkwardly with a fist aimed at Dean’s diaphragm. 

Dean attempted to block it by leaning back, but was pushed off balance with a well-timed buck of Cas’ hips, making Dean crash to the floor on his back. He laughed out a curse and scrambled back out of the way as he watched Cas get up, shaking himself out. He walked over to where Dean was laying on the carpet, and looked down at him.

“I sincerely hope that wasn’t all _you_ got.” Castiel teased, and Dean was pleased to see the sparkle back in his eyes complimenting his rosy cheeks. 

He held out a hand to Castiel above him, under the guise of requesting help into a standing position. As soon as Cas wrapped a hand around Dean’s, Dean steadied his back into the floor and tugged Cas down on top of him. Cas wasted no time in sitting up and swinging a fist towards Dean’s face. Dean was able to block it with his forearm, knocking it to the side, which seemed to unbalance Castiel enough to slide off of Dean and roll to the floor beside him. 

Dean got up on his knees and shuffled over to where Cas lay silent, except for his panting. Dean let his guard down as he examined him, making sure he wasn’t actually hurt. That moment might have been a little too long, as before Dean knew it, Cas had twisted and grabbed his hip and swung his knee around to collide with Dean’s other side, sending him sprawling to the side and allowing Castiel to get his own feet under himself to stand again. 

He made sure that Dean hadn’t bruised anything but his pride before they continued their sparring and wrestling around. Dean could tell that Cas was proud every time he managed to trap Dean underneath him, and if he let Cas get in a few hits, then he would wear those bruises with pride. They laughed together as they talked trash to one another, trying to keep the other one from gaining any ground. Dean could eventually feel himself running out of steam as his thoughts had devolved from how best to take Cas down, to taking Cas down and kissing the breath out of his lungs. And he almost did, as he had somehow ended up with Cas underneath him again, straddling one leg, and wrestled his hands up and over his head, locking them in place. 

He stared down at the angel, with his hair strewn about, chest heaving, mouth parted slightly. His eyes were much darker than Dean had ever seen, outside of his dreams, and his pupils were slightly dilated as he looked up at Dean. Dean became aware of the heat that was pressed against his leg, and felt an answering heat from between his own legs, where he was pressed up against Cas. He tried, and failed to keep his eyes from roaming to where Cas’ shirt was rucked up underneath his breasts, and how tightly it pulled across them. 

He loosened his grip on Castiel’s hands and slid his free hand across the carpet, letting it slow his descent as he worked the top half of his body closer. This caused their legs to shift and apply a delicious pressure to the lower halves of their bodies, making Dean breathe out a soft moan. Cas hitched a breath and blew it out across Dean’s lips, which were much closer now.

“Cas...” Dean murmured, staring questioningly into Castiel’s eyes. 

A breathy “Yesss...” came from Cas, answering the question that Dean hadn’t asked. 

Dean lowered himself further, just a hair’s breadth from meeting Cas’ lips with his own, he could feel the heat of them already burning over his mouth.

_Oh shit, yes._ He thought. _My angel_ —

His thought was cut off by a door slamming down the hallway, and Sam calling out to announce his, and their food’s presence. 

_Fuuuuuuuuck_. He dropped his head to Castiel’s shoulder in defeat. Cas pulled his hands out of Dean’s grip and brought one around the small of his back, and the other around his neck. As quick as lightening, Dean felt the pressure of lips on the top of his head, and then it was gone. He pulled back and caught a look of resignation on Castiel’s face that he was sure had mirrored his own. 

Cas had kissed him. Well, kissed the top of his head, but he kissed him. Dean rolled off of him as Sam called out again, his voice getting closer. He helped Cas get up onto his feet and they made their way back into the library where Sam was pulling food out of the bags and setting out meals in front of the chairs. 

Sam took in their appearances with wide eyes but said nothing. Dean knew how this looked. Even with the blooming marks on his face and especially with his clothes and hair in disarray. He was pretty sure Sam knew how Dean had been keeping his simmering feelings for Cas a highly-guarded secret, but he had never said anything about his suspicions. Dean was grateful for that because he knew that Sam wanted him to be happy, and probably didn’t have anything against him falling for his best friend, but he also knew that Dean’s need to protect his friends, and fight for them far outweighed his need for romantic attachment. But did it? Was that still how Dean felt about it?

He had tuned out Castiel’s and Sam’s conversation with each other as his thoughts turned inwards. Did he _really_ think that he would be able to keep a healthy relationship with Cas? He tried to think of what he was able to offer to the angel. _The same things you’re offering him now, chick-flick._ He thought with a self-deprecating edge. _Companionship. Camaraderie. A family._

He watched Cas and Sam interact with each other as they ate. Sam was gesturing wildly with the retelling of some old tale, Castiel tinkling out a giggle from behind his hand as he covered his mouth. Aside from the obvious physical differences, not much about meal-time had changed. Surely the fact that Dean would be able to put his lips on Cas any time he wanted wouldn’t even be as big of a change as them all being turned into girls, right?

Butterflies erupted in Dean’s stomach as Cas slid his big doe eyes over to Dean. He had Dean’s favourite smile plastered across his face, which Dean was helpless not to answer. He insinuated himself back into the conversation after a few beats, glad for a little bit of distraction.

Once they had all eaten and cleaned up after themselves, Dean proposed that they summon Rowena. He had remembered coming across a summoning spell that didn’t seem too complicated and they had all the ingredients at their disposal in the bunker already.

They had everything spread out and ready, Cas was already grinding the various herbs together while Sam readied the candles on the makeshift altar. 

Dean was going over the translations of the spell, making sure there were no hidden inflections that he needed to worry about, they didn’t need any more surprises. Before he spoke the words to the spell, he instructed Sam on where to set the candles, and that he would have to light them at different intervals during the spell. 

He cleared his throat and began: _“Terra O Mater: O numen Hectate forti, voca me audies. Pereunt enim servus tuus, et postulantes ut auxilium tuum. Ad pythonissam Rowena nobis, ut nos gratiam, ut peteret."_

He indicated to Sam to light the first candle before continuing: _“A magnitudine enim scientia eius sit erice. Et sine qua facti sumus et perierat"._

The second candle was lit. _"Nostrum approbare sacrificium parabatur amore honoris. Rowena ad nos revertere!"_

As he spoke the final line, Sam lit a match and threw it into the bowl containing the herbs and it caught instantly, sending sparks shooting into the air. The candles dimmed and almost sputtered out, but the flames rose again. 

All three of them remained silent, the atmosphere was tense. They were all staring around the room for any indication of having successfully summoned the witch. Castiel jumped as a popping noise came from the burning herbs. He laughed, dispelling some of the tension and placed a hand over his heart.

“What n—” He started and was quickly cut off by a booming knock at the door at the top of the stairs.


	8. Coven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to split this chapter up, which is unfair, because it gets a lil smutty in what is now my new Chapter 9. Just a reminder, they're girls at this point so it's going to be F/F.

They were silent and still for a few beats before Sam started for the staircase. Castiel migrated over to where Dean stood, and slipped his hand into Dean’s grip, both of them looking after Sam with trepidation. 

The knock sounded again as he neared the door. With one look back at Dean and Cas below him, Sam turned the knob and pulled the heavy door out of the way.

While he wasn’t expecting it to be anyone else, Dean still breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw that it was Rowena who pushed her way through, already filling the silence with her chatter about how long she had been kept waiting at the door. She paused in her muttering as she looked over the railing, taking in the sight of Dean and Castiel and furrowing her brows.

“Am I...interrupting...something?” She asked, swiveling her head back to Sam as he shut and locked the door.

“Actually, you’re right on time.” Sam corrected, pushing himself past Rowena who stood rooted to the spot as she watched Sam descend.

“Samuel?” She asked in a tone laced with confusion.

“And Dean, and Castiel.” Sam nodded and waved a hand towards his brother and the angel, now hidden partially behind Dean. 

Rowena walked down the rest of the stairs and slowly made her way towards them. Her eyes flitting towards the altar, which was still alight with candles, and the herbs were still smoldering lazily. 

“You’ve turned yourself into a wee coven?” She asked, her eyes raking over the three of them, taking in their new appearances.

“Yeah, because we’ve also been turned into a _wee_ something else. And we need your help.” Dean attempted to growl out.

Rowena laughed and clasped her hands together in a type of delight that caused a shiver of discomfort to run up his spine.

“Now this is delightful. What happened?” She asked, trying to look at all three of them at once.

“We woke up like this in the middle of the empty field after Cas pushed that witch out of the way. We came to, you were gone, the other witch was gone...” Sam explained, trailing off and letting his hands fall to his sides. 

Rowena looked thoughtful as she sat herself at the table. “Well. This is interesting. But yet not unheard of.” She admitted, cocking her head and looking towards Castiel, who was stifling a yawn.

“Tired, angel?” She asked sympathetically.

“My grace is gone. I’m human now.” He answered simply.

Rowena nodded and rose, saying “Alright then, why don’t we all settle in for our _beauty sleep_ , and we can fix this in the morning. I have a few ideas I’d like to—” 

“What do you mean it’s not unheard of?” Sam was quick to interrupt. 

“I mean,” she fixed a dark look at Sam “It wouldn’t have been the first time something like this has happened...but it might only be the second time this has ever happened. So I have some ideas that I’d like to meditate over so I don’t actually kill you trying to help you, if you don’t mind.” 

Dean could sense his brother’s frustration with that answer, so he took Rowena by the hand and led her to one of the empty bedrooms in the bunker, further down the hall and away from their own sleeping quarters. It was clean, and the bed had been freshly made. She thanked Dean with a squeeze of his hand and affirmed quietly that she would do all she could to get them back into their right bodies. 

“Not that you don’t look _fabulous_.” She finished with a wink and followed that with a giggle of her own as she took in Dean’s scowl. 

He could still hear a soft tittering as she closed the door. Dean turned back down the hall and towards the library to collect the others. He was feeling weary, and getting in a few hours of sleep would be a benefit to them all. He still had words and passages from the many books he had read rolling around in his head and he just wanted a bit of peace and quiet. He tried to think instead, of how he might convince Cas to spend another night in his room.

Sam was alone and looking resigned as he extinguished the candles and made to take the bowl of ashes to the kitchen.

“Don’t stay up too late stewing about this, Sam.” Dean warned, “There’s nothing else we _can_ do but rest, for now. And tomorrow might get crazy so...” and with a dismissive wave of his hand, Dean turned again to make his way to his room. He felt a pang of disappointment as he realized that Castiel must have gone to his own room to sleep. Dean passed by his closed door, figuring that he would leave him be, even though he would have wanted nothing more than to have the angel in his bed for another night.

_To have him wrapped up tight in my arms. Feeling his heart beating against me_. Dean reached for his doorknob and turned, thoughts still running through his head. _Our legs tangled together under the covers, I wouldn’t even mind cold feet touching me so long as they belonged to Cas_. His thoughts came to an abrupt halt as he pushed the door open and looked up. The light from his bedside table was on, illuminating the form of Castiel, who was seated demurely on the edge of Dean’s bed, head swiveled towards the door.

“Hello Dean.” 

Dean closed the door and went to sit beside him, not fully prepared yet to open his mouth. The desire to hold him close was still battling with his will to not freak the guy out.

“Do you mind?” Cas asked, looking Dean in the eye.

Dean shook his head in a negative but kept his eyes locked on Cas’. He watched as Cas let his eyes wander over Dean’s face, starting only slightly as he felt a hand on his cheek. Cas’ thumb ran over his cheekbone lightly, the rest of his fingers curved around behind his ear. He tilted his head and dropped his eyes to Dean’s lips, licking over his own.

As Dean watched that display, he felt his body ratchet up the temperature about a hundred more degrees. He hitched a breath and ran his tongue over suddenly-parched lips. When Cas’ eyes zeroed in on that, Dean bit his lower lip lightly. His thoughts were now rocketing around inside his head _I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna fucking do it right now, I’m gonna kiss Cas._


	9. Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so here's the smut! And yes, I took liberties that Cas just automatically knows what/ where the female g-spot is. And also that it's just some great little spot that can work independently from all other erogenous zones. I'm just gonna say that this chapter was as fun to research as it was to write ;) and yes, that's my TMI for you. I never said I wasn't a little dirty like that.

Dean moved, closing the distance between them, Castiel still staring at Dean’s lips even as Dean pressed them against Cas’. He let his lips linger there until he could tell that Cas had registered what had just happened. He pulled back slightly to find Cas staring at him, his eyes blown wide. He said nothing, but grabbed at the other side of Dean’s face before crushing their lips back together.

In one swift move, Dean grabbed Castiel around the small of his back as he pushed himself forward, effectively pushing the angel down onto the bed while Dean was hovered over top. Their lips broke apart and came together again and again before Dean nipped at his bottom lip and pressed his tongue against the seam until Cas opened his mouth. As their tongues met and began to slide together, Dean moaned breathlessly and let Cas swallow the sound as they explored each other with lips and teeth. 

Dean pulled his lips from Castiel’s and nudged him by the jaw, silently asking for access to Cas’ neck, which he generously gave. Dean ghosted his lips up the milky column and nosed around the back of his ear, nipping at the skin underneath. He heard Cas exhale shakily as Dean licked around the shell of his ear now, dipping in just slightly. Cas’ body shuddered underneath him and, in a move reminiscent of their play-fighting earlier, Cas flipped Dean seamlessly onto his back to be able to give back as good as he was getting. He nipped Dean across his smoothed jaw and down to the juncture where his neck met his shoulder, humming with every taste. 

The humming quickly turned to a growl of frustration when Cas’ ministrations were interrupted by the collar of Dean’s shirt. He was quick to grasp the hem and pull it up, Dean arching his back and then his shoulders in one smooth motion to assist Cas in removing it. Once freed, Dean grabbed Cas’ face in both hands, pulling him down into a heated kiss, slotting their lips together and pressing himself into the angel above him. Cas’ shirt was rough where it scratched against Dean’s stiffened nipples. He arched his back and cried out against Cas’ mouth. 

“Take your fucking shirt off Cas...” Dean ground out, as he had lifted the hem over Castiel’s back.

Cas sat up, eager to comply, and threw the shirt behind him before draping himself back over Dean’s torso to continue worshipping his altered body. He kissed and licked a line down the centre of Dean’s chest, only stopping to suck a mark into the skin at the bottom of his breast, his lips soothed over the sting of it as Castiel cupped at Dean’s chest to bring one of his nipples into his mouth. He circled his tongue around it before suckling at it, Cas moaned as he felt it harden more in his mouth. He pulled away to blow at it with a warm breath as Dean bucked his hips underneath him. He moved so he was able to give the same treatment to the other nipple, while pinching at the first one between his fingers. Dean continued rolling his hips into Cas, searching for any kind of friction he could get. He moved his hands so he could slide them along Cas’ back and manipulate his legs to slot one in place in between Dean’s. He pressed hard on Castiel’s ass and rocked his hips upwards, punching a groan out of them both as he found that friction he was looking for. 

The heat and pressure between his legs was sublime, and he thought that he might be content enough to rub up against Cas until they were both shaking through their orgasms. Because this was Cas. _Cas...my angel_ , Dean thought as he revelled in the feeling of how utterly gone he was on that fact alone. 

Cas lifted his chest from Dean’s and ran his hand down Dean’s ribs until his fingers stopped and hooked into the waistband of the sweats Dean was wearing. He paused a moment to look at Dean, imploringly.

At this point, all Dean could do was nod frantically and lift his hips to allow for the room it would take to tug the pants off. It was then that Cas’ movements turned tentative. He looked at Dean shyly, palming over his bared thigh. Dean had enough experience that he knew what he would have done next, how to use his hands to make his partner writhe under him, but in this new body, and with _Cas_...it had him feeling damn near virginal. 

Instead of letting it turn into an embarrassing situation, he grabbed at Cas’ hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing each finger, his palm, his wrist, before pulling it downwards and encouraging Cas to explore him where the heat was its hottest. 

Cas gasped as he felt the first trace of wetness, and Dean echoed the gasp with his own. It certainly hadn’t felt like this when Dean had done his own exploration earlier. The sensation of Cas’ fingers playing over the most vulnerable parts of Dean’s new anatomy was like striking a match; just milliseconds before it caught and flared to life.

“Cas... _ohGodCas...Cas..._ ” Dean panted out with every pass of his fingers over the taut nub responsible for all this explosive pleasure. 

Dean had a fleeting thought about how Cas could play him like an instrument, and how his body was responding like it hadn’t for anyone else. The lust-filled wonder he saw when he looked into Cas’ eyes had his heart beating double-time in his chest. He reached down to still Cas’ movements, still keeping his gaze locked on the angel. Dean pushed Castiel’s fingers down further, wanting to show him, rather than ask him, for what he wanted. 

Dean gasped again when Cas pushed his fingers gently inside him, his pleasure increasing a hundred-fold. He tried not to close his eyes, wanting to watch as Cas watched him fall apart. He untangled his hands from the sheets beneath him and wrapped his arms around Cas, affirming his actions with every stroke down his back, every time he passed his hand through Castiel’s hair. 

Aside from the breathy moans of Dean’s name, Cas was relatively silent; just drinking in all the sounds that Dean was making, observing how Dean was writhing against him, how his thighs were trembling as Cas pushed in over and over again. He pulled his fingers out, crooking them slightly as he did so and noting how Dean groaned and lifted his hips, trying to chase the feeling. 

“More Cas, _more_...do that again...”

He keened as Cas crooked his fingers again, rubbing over, what Dean spared a half-second of a thought for, his g-spot. 

“ _OhGod...Cas_...are you fucking kidding me...right there Cas, _right there_...Oh _fuck_...”

He was relentless in his tender assault, eagerly pulling the sounds right out of Dean’s mouth as he smothered him with his lips. It wasn’t long after, that Dean’s body bowed and locked up, breaking away from the kiss and clenching around Cas’s fingers.

Cas worked him through it, marvelling at how much wetter it was as Dean trembled around him. Cas withdrew and waited for Dean’s eyes to open again. Once they were, and their gazes locked, Cas brought his hand up and slipped the two digits into his mouth.

The look on Castiel’s face as he tasted Dean on his fingers would have been more than enough to send him over the edge if he hadn’t already gone tumbling over it without a single regret in the world. 

As it was, Dean grabbed for Cas’ face again, pulling their lips together and tasting himself, so much sweeter for having been in Castiel’s mouth first. 

Without much preamble, he flipped the over so that he was now hovering over Cas, looking at him fondly. 

“That was...so amazing. You’re so amazing...” Dean breathed, grinning as Cas blushed at the praise. 

“You know exactly how to drive me crazy...” Dean said as he ran the tips of his fingers down the centre of Cas’ chest, not stopping until he could hook his fingers in Cas’ pants and work them down. The angel’s hitched breaths and whimpers making a fine soundtrack behind his words. 

“You didn’t even _rebuild_ this body, and you know how to work me.” Dean continued in breathless awe. Castiel trembled and whimpered sweetly with every pass of Dean’s fingertips over his bared skin; the tender skin underneath his breasts, strumming along to the sides of them, stroking down his ribcage, and over his stomach. He wished that he could have taken even more time to make a map of Cas’ body like this, but he could sense how worked up the angel... _his angel_...was already. So he followed his own hands as they stroked over the skin of Cas’ knees and he manoeuvred himself to fit between his legs. 

Dean kissed and nipped at the inside of Cas’ creamy white thighs, causing the angel to finally break his silence.

“ _Dean...Dean yes..._ ” he panted. 

Dean slid his hand under his ass and lifted Cas’ hips slightly as he nosed into the glistening patch of hair and took in the raw scent of Cas, moaning directly between his legs. Cas rolled his hips as he let loose a few chosen expletives that sounded completely wrecked falling out of the angel’s mouth.

Dean placed a kiss there first, before opening his mouth and letting his tongue work over Cas, paying special attention to the places that had Cas gasping for air, whimpering on every exhale. 

He started petting around lower with his fingers, letting Cas chase them around with his hips a little bit before finally pushing two in and immediately crooking them to see how fast he could find that hot button which he knew would have Cas falling apart in no time. 

He knew he had found it as Cas squeaked out Dean’s name and pushed himself down on Dean’s fingers. He was perfectly content to let Cas do a little work as he continued circling and flicking his tongue over the soft bundle of nerves above. He wrapped his lips around it, creating a slight amount of suction, moaning lowly at the way it made Cas shiver above him, “ _oh oh oh...Dean_ ” spilling from his mouth. 

It was Dean’s turn to feel Cas trembling around his fingers as he clenched and bucked and whimpered through his orgasm. His limbs turned loose and he all but melted into the bed, breathing hard Dean pulled himself up to hover over Cas again. His eyes widened and speared his laser-focus on Dean’s lips as he surged upwards to kiss him and take in all the new flavours from Dean’s mouth. 

Both of them moved to lay on their sides, facing the other. Entwined in each other’s bodies, they kissed and nipped at each other, continuing to exchange touches and breathy moans and deep, heated looks. 

They didn’t get to sleep for a very long time.


	10. Girls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, thanks for sticking with me so far, I think we might be almost done. This was a fun chapter both to imagine, and to write. And I think I said this before, but I really love Rowena. If I was to join a coven, I would want it to be hers.

As Dean woke, he became aware of how tender his body felt. A delicious ache in his leg muscles, a zing of pain from the superficial wounds that Cas had left on him. He kept his eyes closed and rolled over, expecting to collide with Cas’ sleeping form and maybe continue where they left off last night. 

He absolutely _did not_ pout when he found the other side of his bed empty. The spot still retained some of the warmth of Castiel’s body, and the pillow held the scent of his hair. Dean clung to it and buried his face in the smell, scowling as he felt very averse to leaving his bed.

Bits of the hushed conversation between the two of them filled Dean’s mind. After they had taken turns with each other, and were attempting to calm the fire in their blood with soft kisses and gentled hands, Cas drew away from him and turned shy.

_“Hey, what’s wrong?” Dean asked, running a hand up his arm, wanting to pull him back in. “Don’t go overthinking this.” He paused to cough out a laugh, cynical as it was, “That’s kinda my job, isn’t it?”_

_Cas sighed but afforded him a shy smile instead before speaking up:_

_“I guess my self-confidence has me at a disadvantage. And I may be overthinking things, yes.”_

_He let the silence stretch around them as he could see Cas choosing his next words carefully._

_“Dean. You are my best friend, the best I have ever had...and we just...” he gestured between them with his hands, a little wildly._

_“Yeah we did.” Dean smirked and attempted to bring Cas closer to him again, this distance was ridiculous._

_He stopped when he noticed Cas was uncomfortable._

_“Okay, come on, out with it.”_

_Silence. Dean rolled over onto his back and rubbed a hand down his face, really missing the absence of scruff that had previously decorated his chin._

_“Do you regret this?” He turned his head towards Cas. “Because how you look right now, that’s someone walking the fine line between overthinking and regret.”_

_“I don’t regret that at all Dean. I...thought I made it quite plain...” Cas spoke up again, blushing._

_“Why do I feel like there’s a ‘but’ coming?” Dean narrowed his eyes as Cas finally looked up at him, but he continued on,_

_“Because I don’t regret that, Cas, I really don’t. I didn’t expect to get to...lay you out like a buffet but uh, it happened.” he finished rather lamely, a blush staining his cheeks._

_He was rather nervous now, in the face of Cas’ silence, so Dean found himself rambling._

_“And I meant it; you didn’t remake this body and you knew every way to touch me as if you had. For as many times as I thought about you having your hands on me, I never thought it would feel like that.”_

_Castiel was now shocked into silence at that revelation. What shocked him even more was how Dean seemed to pick out his greatest insecurity and smooth off the sharp edges of it with his next words._

_Dean rolled back over, reaching out to cup Castiel’s face so he could look him in the eye as he spoke, “It’s not how you look, Cas. I’m really not that shallow.” He huffed out a laugh,_

_“It happened because it’s you. Castiel. To be honest, it was a little less...intimidating. Only because I know how to be with a woman...but it’s...I mean...” Dean growled out a sigh before pausing to collect his words again, marvelling at how far out into chick-flick territory he was going to get._

_“When I look into your eyes, I see you. I see you as more than just the vessel you’re riding. Every once in a while, I see that grace that saved me from the pit, and when I can’t see it, I can sense it.” He was blushing furiously but he tried to let the honesty shine through his eyes._

_Cas allowed Dean to pull him into his arms as Dean admitted to how nervous he was about being able to please a man, with another man’s body. He admitted how often he had thought about pressing his lips to Castiel’s, how he let his arms linger around Cas on the occasions that called for an embrace._

_It was like the floodgates to Dean’s emotions had burst open as he told him how happy he was that Cas had come to stay in the bunker, and how they could get away with conversations that had nothing to do with hunting, or demons, or ghosts._

_Every moment of silence, before Dean would find something else to admit to, Cas would punctuate it with a kiss to his skin, a stroke of his hand, until..._

Dean sighed, bringing himself back into the present. He rubbed his face into Castiel’s pillow and finally pushed himself up to get out of bed. 

He felt _good_ about last night. Not only had their physical needs been taken care of, but Dean felt satisfied with truths he had filled Cas’ ears with. He tried not to let this vulnerability affect him, as he tried not to read much into the fact that he wasn’t still in bed with Dean when he awoke. 

He wandered about his room, wading through the clothing that littered his floor and lamented about laundry. Dean supposed he could get a little domestic and at least ensure they had their comfortable clothes cleaned up. He started a pile when a bag hanging on the inside doorknob caught his eye. 

One look inside had him laughing. 

He gathered up the pile of dirty laundry, and his own things before heading for the showers. 

* * * * *

He sauntered down the hall, on his way to the kitchen, rolling his shoulders at the way the bra was keeping him all strapped in. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but Dean guessed it was a little more appropriate.

Coffee procured, he followed the voices he heard coming from the lounge area. It sounded like he was the last one to wake up. He strolled in with a morning greeting on the tip of his tongue before Sam interjected, with a wide-eyed look on his face,

“Oh my God Dean, what the hell?” his laughter soon followed. 

Rowena spared him an appraising glance as she tittered “Cheeky lass, I only supplied the brassieres.”

Dean stood before them all, clad in a loose-fitting grey t-shirt and pair of black satin panties.

“Oh don’t act all surprised, guys, you knew this would happen.” He said simply, wiggling his eyebrows in Castiel’s direction. 

He had to do a double take, as he saw Cas sitting on the floor, in between Rowena’s splayed legs as she worked from the couch, combing out Cas’ long, dark hair before beginning what looked like a braid.

“Oh, are we having a spa day? Shall I fetch us all a mimosa before brunch?” Dean teased, kicking out at Sam’s foot as he passed, before taking up a spot on the floor near Cas.

He watched as Rowena gathered up more of Cas’ hair, and winding the braid around his head so it looked like a crown. As he caught Cas’ eye, he winked and smiled as he proclaimed it “Neat.”

Cas gestured for Dean to sit in front of him as Rowena was putting some pins in the braid-crown to keep it in place. Dean closed his eyes as he felt Cas drag the brush through his hair. He worked carefully, trying to work through any tangles without pulling too hard, as Dean all but melted at the feeling.

He heard Rowena move away and observed, “You boys should practice the art of self-care more often. It shouldn’t be limited to the occasions you find yourselves cursed— sorry, _blessed_ by being turned into women.” 

“Do you ever take a day off _just because_? Take a bath? Go get a massage?” She continued, glancing over at Sam.

“Well, we were _trying to_ , Rowena, before you came in here asking for help. And look where it got us.” He stated, trying to keep most of the hard edge of bitterness from his voice.

Rowena tutted, unaffected by Sam’s words.

“Somebody sounds jealous that they’re not participating.” She sing-songed instead. 

“Oh, I am not.” Sam said resolutely, shooting a definitive bitchface in her direction.

“Samuel. Do you want a fancy up-do too?” She asked, smirking.

“No.” He bit out, but his glare was a little softer now.

Rowena was silent, but sent a glare right back. From the floor, Dean and Cas watched the standoff between them. 

“Yeah alright.” Sam relented and made to move onto the floor so Rowena could scramble up behind him with a triumphant look on her face. 

As she started running her fingers through Sam’s long brown hair, he looked over and caught Dean’s eye.

“Shut up.” was all he said. 

Dean raised his hands in a placating gesture and let himself sink back into the way Cas’ hands felt as he worked with the long golden tresses. 

_This is nice,_ Dean thought, as he felt Cas attempting to manipulate Dean’s hair into some semblance of style. He felt content, more relaxed than he had felt in a long time. _Maybe Rowena’s on to something with this self-care thing. We should take a day off here and there and just enjoy each other’s company. Make dinner, be a family. Play a freakin’ board game or something._

Dean was caught off guard as he realized how much he wanted that. How much he could see that as a possibility now. He had what he wanted most—a home, his brother, his angel. There was food in his fridge and a place to cook it, his beloved car was parked in a fully-stocked garage, and the divine water pressure in a sparklingly clean bathroom. There wasn’t much else to _want_ out of this life. 

Dean tried to cut out the spark of negativity that threatened to tear it all down with the thought of how all this might be temporary until they killed the witch and got themselves back into their correct bodies. _What if Cas wasn’t interested after that? What if he leaves again, after he’s all manned-up and has his grace back? What if I actually_ can’t _be with him as a man?_

Dean’s derailing train of thought was cut off by an alarm ringing from his phone. 

“Laundry.” was his only explanation. 

“Well, look at you, Ms. Domesticity.” Sam laughed, seeming to be in a better mood now that he was under Rowena’s expert hands.

“Very funny, Samantha.” He shot back, earning himself a look from Sam with no real heat behind it.

Dean made sure Cas was finished with his hair before standing and helping to pull Cas to his feet as well. 

“C’mon angel, half that shit is yours...”Dean started, trailing away as Cas lifted his arms over his head and stretched, the bottom of the shirt pulling up to reveal an expanse of pale skin, dotted with a bruise or two that Dean had put there himself. 

As he started for the laundry room, Castiel in tow, Dean realized that there would be _no way_ that he _wouldn’t_ be interested in Cas when they were both returned to their own bodies.


	11. Charm

Dean opened the washer to start handing clothes to Cas, who was standing at the ready near the dryer. He desperately wanted to ask why Cas hadn’t remained in bed with him, but he didn’t want to come off sounding as needy as he felt. There was still a lingering vulnerability from the things he had expressed to Cas last night, and as much as he wanted to be confident about it, there were still worries that were pinging around in his chest of Cas leaving once he was able to leave. 

He didn’t notice that Cas had come up behind him, as he stared at the lumps of wet clothing and lost in thought, and he jumped as he felt Cas wrap his arms around Dean’s middle and press up against his back. Dean put his hands on Cas’ arms to still him from moving away. 

After a moment, Dean turned and reached to cup Cas’ face before bringing his lips softly down on his. Dean kept his movements soft; brushing his thumbs over Cas’ cheeks, gently bumping their foreheads together, licking at Cas’ upper lip lightly as he kissed him, feather-soft. 

Cas tightened his hold around Dean, his breath catching as Dean moved his hands up around the back of his neck, fingers playing in the wisps of loose hair. 

Dean pulled back and looked at Cas, breathless and beautiful, spots of colour now high in his cheeks. 

“That hairstyle is really something, Cas,” Dean murmured, trailing his fingers down his neck as Cas shuddered. “Looks just like a halo.”

He bent down to place a few lingering kisses where Cas’ neck met his shoulder. Whispering endearments of _angel_ , and _mine_ into the skin there. 

He could tell that his words were heard as Cas pulled Dean against him even tighter and sighed out “We could take this to the bedroom—”

Dean cut him off with a laugh, “Cas, I’m telling you how beautiful you are and you just wanna fuck around?” He nuzzled his face into Cas’ temple, “What kind of girl do you take me for?” 

He grasped Castiel’s upper arms and pushed him back a little, so he could look him in the eye. 

“Let’s get the laundry in the dryer, and then we will have about 40 minutes while it dries. I can officially say that I have no plans afterwards.” He gave Cas a smirk and turned away, making to hand Cas the wet clothes.

He was getting down to the last few items when he heard the clinking sound of metal on metal. Probably just some loose change, or a button that had fallen off, but he rooted around for it anyways. These laundry machines were definitely old, but they were the only ones they had and he didn’t want to tempt fate by leaving anything in there to jam up.

He found the culprit, and looked at it as he handed Cas a few remaining socks and pairs of underwear. 

It was a small silver charm, shaped like...what was that, a goat? There were markings on the back, so small that they could just be small details to make it more realistic, but the accompanying feeling of dread in the pit of Dean’s stomach told him that it wasn’t just clever craftsmanship.

“Huh...Cas, is this yours?” He turned to face him and held up the charm.

Cas took a moment to squint at the object that Dean had held up pinched between his fingers.

“Oh! Yes, well, no it isn’t mine, but I picked it out of the field near where the witch went down. With all that has happened I just...forgot about it.” He made to reach for it, then drew his hand back and looked at Dean. 

“We should probably get it to Rowena. It could be...something.” He finished, but then grumbled out resignedly as he shut the dryer and turned it on, “It’s _probably_ something. And it probably _can’t_ wait 40 minutes.” 

Dean laughed at the look on Cas’ face. “I’ll make it worth your while, Cas. Later.” He grabbed him by the hand and walked back to the lounge area.

“Rowena, Cas found something in the field that night.” He held up the charm. “It ended up in the washer, but—”

Rowena gasped and stood up from the couch, holding her hand out for it as she walked towards Dean.

She examined the charm, turning it over and holding it close to her face, as she attempted to decipher the inscription on the back. 

“This. If this is authentic...”She trailed off, her eyes wide as she looked back up at Dean.

“This is the sigil of one of the most powerful witching families in all of Europe. Crafted with not only some of the first silver that had been mined _in the world_ , but infused with the blood and bone of their ancestors that came before. This is an old, old family heirloom. The inscription on the back is of a dead language that even I won’t be able to decipher, but it would make an excellent tracking object!” 

She seemed to have a new life blown into her as she clasped the charm to her breast and started listing off things she would need to complete the tracking spell.

“If we can find her, we can go after her. And she _will_ have to die.” 

As Rowena began listing the things she would need out loud, and designating who should go and retrieve what for her, Sam looked at Castiel and asked if it was something he might be able to translate. 

Cas agreed that it wouldn’t hurt to look, and Rowena relinquished her hold on the charm as Cas brought it into the library with him and sat at the table, still piled high with books and folders. 

The charm was small, only about the size of a quarter, and if it weren’t for the magnifying glass that Castiel had found in a drawer, he wouldn’t be able to decipher the words at all. 

By the time the boys had found and brought in all of the things Rowena would need to enact her tracking spell, Cas had finished with it and was going over the words that he had written down as a translation of the back of the charm.

_In the blood of our sisters, we are united. The bones of our brothers, we are strong. With the grace of angels, we will be reborn._

“Well, that doesn’t sound foreboding at all.” Sam said, as he read over the passage. 

“What do you think that means?” He turned to ask Rowena.

She shrugged, but offered “Well, the charm is infused with both the blood and bone of their ancestors, that is pretty clear. With the grace of an angel...? Could actually mean what it says; that using the grace of an angel could potentially lead to the rebirth of their ancestors. It could mean something else entirely. It could be a metaphor for using soul magic...but it could also be quite literal, like I said.” 

“Hmmm...angels are caretakers of souls...there might be something to that.” Castiel surmised as he handed Rowena the charm. 

As she took it from Cas’s hand, there was a snap as a shock passed through the both of them. Castiel pulled his hand away and shook it out, looking down at it with a frown. Rowena seemed unconcerned, but Dean noticed the look that crossed her face before she had schooled it back into one of concentration. 

She spread the world map over the table and lit the candles. Speaking words over the mortar and pestle she used to grind the ingredients necessary. Everyone fell silent as she continued on, speaking the spell out confidently and adding things slowly. Last, but not least, was the charm. She laid it onto the map almost lovingly, pouring the concoction over the map and making a hand gesture over the top as she finished speaking. 

The map, in typical tracking-spell fashion, began to burn, closing in on the witch they were looking for. Dean was glad that most of the United States remained intact; he wasn’t looking forward to having to travel all the way back overseas to reclaim his gender. 

As the flames burned themselves out, Rowena was looking down with a smile on her face. It was a good indicator that things were going well and she was closing in on the location. The smile stuttered a bit as the table began to shake. She threw a cautious glace behind her where Sam, Dean, and Castiel were huddled together.

It began to shake harder, now they could feel it under their feet as the table began to buck against the concrete floor. Sam was the first to put his hands over his ears and look around wildly before Dean heard it as well; a high pitched ringing that took Dean back to a time where he was alone in a rough-looking gas station in the middle of nowhere.

He turned to Cas, who had his hands over his ears and his wide, blue eyes were staring at the table. The frequency of the ringing grew, as did the rising panic on Cas’ face. Dean uncovered one of his ears and went to reach for Cas, and as his hand brushed Castiel’s arm, the light bulbs in both lamps on the library tables tinkled as they exploded.

Rowena made to step further back from the table, and as Dean squinted against the noise, he noticed to panicked look on her face and it did nothing to calm him. 

Just when he thought the noise couldn’t get any louder, he both heard, and felt the explosion that sounded like cannon-fire. He immediately dropped low to the floor, making sure to grab and pull Sam down with one hand, and he tried to grasp Castiel with the other. 

A bright white light filled the library and even though he couldn’t hear it, he suspected that the power surge had blown out every available light in the room. Still the light became brighter; the ringing was so high-pitched that it was beyond his scale of hearing at this point.

With his head tucked into his arms on the floor, he reached to his side and still tried to tug Castiel to the floor beside him. As Dean’s hand closed around Cas’ ankle, he felt a shuddering jolt up through his arm like he was being electrocuted. The light flashed brighter and then disappeared. The noises had ceased and the silence felt heavy. He could hear the tinkling of glass as it continued to fall from the various sconces and fixtures around the room. 

Dean opened his eyes into the darkness of his arms and slowly raised his head. Everything was awash in the red light of their emergency lighting. He turned to look at Sam beside him, who was looking around with wide eyes; Rowena was making a move to stand. Cas’ face was pallid, his mouth was open and he was gasping for air and teetering on his feet. Dean made a move to grab him as he began to slump to the ground on his knees. 

“Cas!” He cried, lowering his friend to the ground and across his lap. 

Cas looked up at Dean with faintly glowing-blue eyes. “Dean...I don’t...I d-don’t...” He trailed off, the bluish glow getting brighter.

Dean watched as the glow seemed to infuse Cas’ skin and hair, down his exposed neck; his _fingertips_ were glowing.

He was heaving for air now, twitching and writhing in Dean’s arms as he tried to hold him down. An impossible task, as Cas arched his back and screamed, the light exploding out of every pore in Castiel’s body.


	12. Roadtrip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't think I'd have enough steam for 12 chapters of the same story. And, hey, you can thank my crap luck on the dating website for Chapter 13.

Dean was quick to shut his eyes against the bright burning light. It died down quickly, leaving the smell of ozone and freshly fallen rain behind. Dean opened his eyes again, tentatively, looking down at Cas. His breathing had returned to normal, but his eyes were still closed; long, dark lashes brushing under his eyes like a bruise. 

“Whew! Well, that was exciting.” claimed Rowena, from where she had taken cover again. 

She began crawling her way over to where Dean and Castiel were on the floor. 

“Dean,” Sam called out, “Are you okay?”

He tried to speak a few times, but ended up just nodding his head in affirmation, not taking his eyes from Cas, who was slumped back on Dean’s outstretched legs.

Sam crawled over to his brother and the crumpled angel. He reached a hand out and put it on Dean’s shoulder in a comforting gesture. 

“What happened?” Sam continued in a softened voice.

Dean tried to get past the tremble in his voice, “He just... _lit up_ , Sam. From...from _everywhere_. It was like...Remember when we helped Anna get her grace back? She just...exploded with that light. Cas looked like he had just gone supernova.”

Dean looked down to where Rowena had a hand held to Castiel’s forehead, as if checking for a fever.

She had bent her head down until it was level with Cas’ ear and she whispered a few words lowly there, that Dean could not hear.

They all watched as Cas’ eyes began to flutter behind closed lids. They opened incrementally, and Dean could see just a sliver of grace-infused blue as they flashed, the light receding into something closer to Castiel’s usual eye colour. 

He looked into Dean’s eyes as he became more aware of himself, and sighed, attempting to sit up. 

“There he is,” Dean said in a tender and quiet voice, just shades above a whisper. He smiled, relief flooding through him as Cas shook his head as if to clear it.

“That was a lucky find, angel.” Rowena said lowly, “It will have been a sore loss for that witch, if she knew what she had taken.” 

“My grace.” Cas stated lowly, voice scratchy, a mere echo of the tone that often reduced Dean into a quivering lump.

“So, he just gets his grace back? Just like that?” Sam questioned the room at large, suspicion lining his voice.

“Just like that.” Rowena nodded in confirmation. “If it didn’t belong to this angel, it would have found the angel it did belong to, am I right?” She continued, addressing the question to Castiel.

Cas nodded and then blew out a heavy breath, reaching his hand out to Sam, who helped him to stand on shaky legs. 

Dean pushed himself up off the floor and spared a look back at Castiel before he shuffled over to the table to see what was left of the map after the tracking spell and resulting grace-explosion.

Nearly everything had burnt up, leaving a few scraps of paper, and the charm, of course, which was now cracked in half. Dean grabbed the biggest scrap, which appeared to be mostly in the shape of the state of Massachusetts. He huffed out a laugh and turned to the others, holding it up.

“I’m going to give you all one guess where it tracked that witch to, but you’re only gonna need one. It’s like she isn’t even _trying_.” 

“Salem?” Sam asked, smirking. 

Dean nodded, flinging the scrap back onto the table and walking over to where Cas was seated in one of the leather chairs. He kneeled down in front of the angel and looked into his eyes as he took one of Cas’ hands in his.

“So, you’re all...powered up? How you feeling?” He asked quietly, as he sensed the other two making their way out of the library, assuming that they were giving him and Castiel some space.

“I would have rather spent that time in some kind of compromising position with you in bed.” Cas deadpanned.

Dean grinned, reaching up to place a hand on Cas’ cheek, “Well, I see your libido remains intact.” He joked.

“I can feel my grace trying to proportion itself into this vessel and it is...uncomfortable, to say the least.” Cas continued. “I don’t know how this will affect my abilities.”

Dean nodded in understanding, remaining quiet for a few moments longer as he stroked his thumb over Castiel’s cheekbone. 

“Looks like we’re off to Salem though, on a witch hunt.” He stated. “It’s a 26 hour drive east. At least. You can rest and reorient yourself on the way.” Dean added. He pat Cas on the knee and made to rise, holding his hand out expectantly. 

He let Dean pull him up from the chair and they made their way to the war room, where Sam and Rowena were conversing over cups of re-heated coffee. 

He pushed Cas gently into an empty chair and he paced around the table, walking it in a semi-circle. He was only half aware of what Sam and Rowena were talking about, lost in some of his own thoughts before he interrupted.

“So when we get there we can just...shoot her, right? Please tell me I can shoot her.”

Rowena looked up at him sharply, tracking his movements as he paced back and forth.

“While I would prefer she answer for her crimes, I suppose I can’t really stop you from doing so. But that cannot be the entirety of your plan—”

“Have you met me? Killing things is a primary aspect of my personality, Rowena.” Dean stated darkly, pausing in his steps to glare at her. 

Rowena smiled, as if she thought Dean was being cute. Or at least, that’s how he had perceived that look.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Dean attempted to growl.

Rowena rolled her eyes at Dean’s display. 

“Okay, okay, c’mon guys knock it off.” Sam said as his voice rose slightly. “We need to work together, here, for a bit longer.” 

“Dean,” He looked at Dean until Dean met Sam’s eye. “You are still a fearsome warrior. Rowena, you are a perfectly capable witch. We appreciate your help.”

“And I yours, Samuel.” Rowena confirmed. 

Sam stood up from the table, but continued “I’m going to pack up the Impala. Rowena, can you see about making some sort of hex bags or some other kind of protection that will stand up to whatever soul-power this witch has? Dean, can you please go and put on some pants for the love of God.”

With those directions, Sam turned and all but flounced from the room. Dean couldn’t help but smirk a little at the way Sam’s hips swayed to indicate his frustration as he left the room.

At his brother’s retreating form, Dean called out immaturely “Fuck pants!”

* * * * *

An hour later found them all piled again into the Impala as the wheels screamed over the hardtop. Sam was riding shotgun, with a map open beside him, Castiel was slumped in the backseat with his eyes closed. Dean made sure to put him in the seat behind Sam, if only to keep an eye on him. Rowena was currently in a trance-like state that allowed her sight to leave her body and rush forwards to see what she could see in Salem. Dean had turned around once to look at her, but all he could see was the whites of her eyes, which was enough to keep his eyes front and forward for the rest of the foreseeable future.

After Dean had packed a small bag for the three of them, Rowena had come and painted strange symbols on the skin of their hips, telling them that these symbols would protect better than any hex bag she could come up with. 

She had also armed herself with spells to subdue, instead of destroy. She had acquiesced when Dean reiterated that he was going to shoot the witch, as the quickest way to get both his body back and to destroy the threat. 

When they were 12 hours in to the journey, Dean had let Sam take over. His eyes were burning with the need for rest and he traded spots with Rowena so he could stretch out a little but not have to be close to her as she looked essentially...dead. _Gross_.

Without thinking, he pillowed his head in Castiel’s lap, who looked down at him in surprise but began running his fingers through the soft blonde hair that had come out of the braid Cas had worked into it earlier. 

As Cas began to hum something that sounded suspiciously like “Hey Jude”, Dean could feel himself drift away, blissfully forgetting about the pent up frustration and anxiety as he rested, thinking only of the memory of the plush give of Castiel’s lips on his. 

The rest of the trip went by smoothly, Dean changing places with Sam once again and the both of them transferring Rowena into the back seat so she could continue with her meditations. 

When they arrived in Salem, it was late. Dean picked the first motel he could find with a “Vacancy” sign and they all shuffled off to separate single rooms, which was all that was left available. 

Dean entered his small room and tossed his duffle bag on the chair before walking over to the bed and flopping face down on it, groaning as he felt his cramped muscles unfurl themselves slowly. 

He heard the familiar rustle of feathers and spoke without looking up, “Guess your vessel is getting used to things?” 

“Slightly, yes.” Cas confirmed. “Although my navigation is a little off. Sam was most surprised.” 

Dean felt the bed dip slightly as Cas sat down. 

He rolled over so he could look at the angel. 

“You probably don’t need to sleep any more, huh.” 

“I would like to stay with you, regardless.” Cas said quietly, gazing at Dean from under his eyelashes. 

Dean didn’t say anything as he struggled to push the starchy covers down the bed to allow room for the both of them. As he pulled the covers over himself, he held up one side and gestured for Cas to get in. 

Castiel looked pleasantly surprised at the offer and wasted no time crawling in beside him, allowing Dean to fold him into his arms and nuzzle into the back of his neck before dropping off completely once again.


	13. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh. This chapter is for the jerk on a dating website who made fun of the fact that I write “smut” like its a bad thing. I’ll f**king show you “smut”, sweetheart.

Dean was roused from sleep by a gentle pressure somewhere near his temple, the light sound of breath near his ear. It made him shiver, but drew him from his slumber. The pressure repeated, and he was able to identify it as a kiss. With his eyes still closed, he rolled in the direction the kisses were coming from, only a small, sleepy smile forming on his lips. 

Dean turned his face upwards as Cas angled his down and pressed their mouths together. Cas eagerly lapped at Dean’s upper lip, sliding a hand into his hair to cradle the back of Dean’s head. Dean hummed his satisfaction into the kiss and moved his hand up over Cas’s side.

“Mmmm...Timeizzit...” Dean slurred as they broke apart. 

“Still early yet.” Cas whispered.

Dean hummed again and pressed himself forwards, claiming Cas’s lips this time, the angel already opening his mouth to feel Dean’s tongue stroke alongside his own. 

When he grew breathless, he pulled away to nip at Cas’ chin and along his soft jaw line. He followed the curve of his neck, pausing a moment to suck a light mark by Cas’ jugular before kissing and biting his way down further. 

He pushed Cas onto his back gently and then moved to straddle his hips, keeping his body low so he could press his lips to Castiel’s once more. 

He moved his mouth towards Cas’ ear, tracing the shell of it lightly, hearing Cas shudder out a breath. 

“...You ready, Cas?” Dean asked boldly, in a low voice. 

Castiel gasped, “ _Oh_...yes...Yes _please_ Dean...” One hand flew to Dean’s hip, gripping tightly as the other slipped up the back of Dean’s shirt.

As Dean was sucking a more permanent mark into the skin below Cas’ ear, he registered a brief chill before becoming aware of the feeling of warm skin pressed to warm skin. He pushed himself up a little to look down at Cas, who was now naked below him.

“Did you just—”

“Yes.” Cas confirmed breathlessly. 

Dean raised his eyebrows, “Mojo our clothes off, okay. Good to know.”

Dean lowered his head once more, nipping across Cas’ collar bones and relishing the noises that Cas made. When Dean’s own stiffened nipples brushed against Cas’ chest, he buried a noise into Castiel’s skin as he continued to kiss his way downwards. And when he found any spot that caused Cas to arch his back into Dean’s mouth, he kissed and smoothed over them again and again, just to feel how responsive he was to Dean’s touch. 

Dean’s fingers played over Cas’ ribs slowly, as he mouthed along Cas’ belly, marking him. He thought he might be going a bit overboard with all the hickeys he was leaving across his skin, but every time he applied any amount of suction, Cas would moan, and lift his hips up; the hand in Dean’s hair would tighten and really, how could Dean deny Castiel anything at this point. 

Dean had drawn closer to the juncture of Cas’ thigh and mouthed at the skin there, causing Cas to squirm and let out an absolutely destroyed moan that somehow ended in a breathy giggle. Dean pressed his lips there harder and let out a laugh of his own as Cas tried to relocate his head a little to the right. 

Dean pressed his chin into the spot at the top of his thigh as he made to bite at Cas’ hip bone. Cas thrust his hips forward under the onslaught of pressure and he let out a dark noise, a groan so soaked in pleasure that Dean had to stop and look up Cas’ body to see his face. The ecstasy written across it was more than enough to send a deep spiral of heat into Dean’s abdomen. 

“ _Dean..._ ” Cas admonished, attempting to push him away from a spot that Dean was quickly learning was all shades of ticklish. 

He wanted to keep teasing Cas with his tongue tickling every part of him, but the urge to taste was becoming overwhelming and the mantra of Dean’s name rolling over Castiel’s lips was almost too much for him. If Cas was even half as aroused as Dean was at that moment, this would be over before it even properly began. 

Cas must have noticed his hesitation because his hands loosened their grip in his hair and he begged, breathlessly into the air, “Dean... _please_...”

“Please _what_ , angel?” Dean asked, making sure that he was close enough to Cas that the breath from his words caressed the skin of his abdomen, just slightly above the area where he knew Cas wanted him.

“Your mouth on me, _please Dean_...I want your mouth on m—” Cas’ begging devolved as Dean went straight for it, not even able to let him finish asking for Dean to put his mouth where he needed it. 

Cas moaned as Dean pressed his tongue down on him, lapping at the firm nub of Cas’ clitoris. Alternating between licking at it and suckling gently until Cas was shaking and moaning beneath him. Dean took him apart that way, finding all the ways he could move his tongue to pull delicious mewls from Cas’ mouth. 

Dean’s hips thrust lazily against the bed as he listened to Cas’ breathing speed up, almost gasping now as Dean circled his tongue faster, with just a bit more pressure behind it. It wasn’t long after that Cas arched his back and cried out as his orgasm overtook him, shaking and gasping and huffing out small pleasured noises. 

Dean kissed him there lightly again, suckling gently as he came down from that high. He let Dean work him through it, only threading his hands through Dean’s hair again when he had felt much too sensitive for any more pleasure to be found there. 

He worked his way back up Cas’ body, kissing over the marks that he had left there as an apology. Castiel grabbed on to both sides of Dean’s face and pressed their mouths together, slowly licking the taste out of Dean’s mouth and humming against his lips. 

“I want to taste you like that, Dean.” Cas said, looking into Dean’s heavy-lidded eyes. 

Dean could do nothing but nod and twist his body so that he was the one with his back pressed against the bed.

He closed his eyes in anticipation and waited for Cas to shroud his body with his own. When he didn’t feel anything, he opened his eyes to find Cas staring at him with a clear and undisguised lust that made Dean feel decidedly smug.

“See something you like?” He asked, trying to catch his eye.

“Mmmmm...I do.” Cas breathed out as he tracked the movement of Dean’s hand as it descended his body. “You know I do.”

Dean moved his hand lower, he was unabashedly aroused, still watching Castiel’s face as he figured out what Dean was going for. Cas watched as Dean ran his hand over himself, dipping in slightly under the mound of tightly curled hair. He found the spot he was looking for and spared it one stroke as he closed his eyes again, marvelling at how wet he was. Warmth curled through his body at the feeling, which quickly turned hotter as he remembered that _Cas was watching him_.

His breath hitched and he opened his eyes to find Cas looking at him straight on and if Dean wasn’t already so turned on, the look of _hunger_ on Cas’ face would have definitely done it. 

He maintained eye contact with Dean as he raised his hand and trailed along Dean’s stomach, feeling it flutter and clench as he ghosted the tips of his fingers lower over Dean’s abdomen.

Dean squirmed under Cas’ fingers, barely aware of the fact that his own fingers were still curled in his own wetness and heat until he felt Cas’ fingers join his. 

Dean couldn’t help the noise that pushed past his lips as he moved his own fingers in tandem with the angel above him. 

As Castiel shifted on the mattress, he hooked his finger around Dean’s and moved it out of the way. He then crawled over Dean’s leg and made a place for himself in between.

There were no words as Cas opened his mouth over the centre of Dean, giving back every lick, every suckle; relishing in the taste of him as he swirled his tongue around, applying pressure, and then backing off slightly as Dean shuddered and moaned above him. He was too far gone to make any smartass comments or goad Cas on. Just breath after shuddery breath, as Cas brought him to the brink of orgasm, before pushing him right over it by moaning against Dean as he pressed his tongue down one last time.

Dean could feel his body tense up as pleasure exploded throughout his entire body. He knows that he had made all manner of embarrassing noises as Cas helped him along, not stopping even as the aftershocks rolled through Dean’s body; just sucking and licking and _tasting_ until Dean had to pull Cas away and up into the circle of his arms. 

They lay together in silence, just regulating their breathing and enjoying the afterglow together before they had to get up. Dean was struck again by how much he enjoyed this part. How much he enjoyed being with Cas this way – not just being intimate, but _this_ , right here. The holding him afterwards, chick-body or no chick-body; the serenity of it...

It had been a long time coming between him and Cas. At first, it was just a shared heat as they never seemed to be able to look at each other without amping up the sexual tension. There were a few moments when Dean thought about starting something, about how maybe he _could_ start something but it was always just about sex with him then. Not that it isn’t now; it’s just that with all they have been through together Dean was able to see past the gratitude he felt for Cas pulling him from Hell and always coming when he called. He was able to see Castiel as something other than a warm body. He was more than flashes of bright blue eyes in Dean’s direction, more than a friendly and familiar hand upon his formerly-branded shoulder. 

When Dean’s thoughts started straying into four-letter-word territory, he thought it would be prudent to get up and start getting this show on the road. 

He murmured into Cas’ hair his desire to clean up, maybe have a shower. Dean was pleasantly surprised that Cas followed him into the bathroom, and even though the air was cool and the floor was cooler, that fact was enough to lend him a little warmth. 

They might be able to come out of this alright. The two of them might be able to finally come out of something as _more_.


	14. Salem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, back to business then.

When Rowena met the boys at her door, she squealed in delight as she noticed they were dressed in the same clothing they had worn to the Beltane festival. Of course, since the landscapes of their bodies had changed, they filled out the low-cut shirts better. 

“Are you _certain_ you don’t want these bodies permanently?” Rowena fawned over them, her eyes lingering over the mark on Cas’ neck. “I would be honoured to have three drop dead gorgeous hunters in my coven.”

She looked pointedly at the mark again before dropping Cas a wink. He promptly blushed, and threw a flustered look Dean’s way.

Dean shrugged a little and smirked in Castiel’s direction as he made his way down the row of doors to bang on Sam’s. 

“C’mon Princess, or Rowena will make this spell permanent!” He called through the door, not expecting it to open so quickly. 

Sam seemed excited and ready for the task ahead and Dean was quick to point it out. 

“I just want to stand up to pee, man.” Sam joked, garnering that full body laugh from Dean that was heard too few times. 

They kept their conversation light but jovial as they walked towards the closest diner, Sam’s arm thrown over Dean’s shoulder in a display of brotherly affection that neither of them had felt compelled to act on in years. 

It occurred to Dean that Sam had probably witnessed the matching marks on his and Cas’ necks, so he took the gesture as one of acceptance. Once this was all over and done with; the witch being vanquished and their man-cards restored, he would have to sit down with Sam and a couple of beers and come clean.

They managed to get a larger table near the back of the diner, and after they were brought out their breakfasts, Rowena managed to make it so they were not interrupted.

They used that time to talk through their Plan B. 

Rowena had the address of the property where she had tracked the witch to. It was a rambling estate on the town limits, set back from on a dirt road littered with potholes. To save his Baby’s undercarriage, Dean voted they park a few miles away and go in on foot. Both Sam and Dean had their guns loaded with witch-killing bullets and thrust into the backs of their pants, trusting all else to the marks that Rowena had daubed onto their skin. 

Castiel was trusting in his angel blade, as well as his use of his grace, if it came down to it. He didn’t want to have it stolen again, but it stood to reason that the witch will have noticed the loss of her heirloom charm.

They took to stalking through the woods, rather than down the middle of the road in broad daylight. There was a naturally occurring pathway that meandered through the trees just inside, and away from the view of the road. 

It seemed like a long shot, to hope that they would get onto the property unnoticed but as they breached the tree line, there was nothing that had come rushing at them.

Dean thought that was a really overconfident move, if the house was truly as unguarded as it seemed to be. 

Rowena had explained that the sigils on their skin wouldn’t cloak their presence, but it would make them impervious to any sort of hex or spell designed to hurt them or disable them in any way. But they would have to protect themselves against getting within grabbing distance of the witch, lest she use any of her soul magic. 

They made it across the yard and up onto the wooden wrap-around porch without interruption. Dean, who was leading the way with his gun drawn and ready, looked behind him at Rowena, suspicion lining his gaze. He noticed that as they approached the house, the very air around them became quiet. No chirping birds, no breeze fluffed the errant strands of hair around their faces. There was no woodsy smell to the place. It was like they had left all of that in the forest behind them. 

The utter silence put them all on alert. There was no way she didn’t know they were coming for her.

The front door opened easily, it was unlocked, just as Dean surmised it might have been. As soon as he got through the door, he went to the right of it with his back to the wall and his gun held in front of him as he waited for the others. 

The foyer they filed into was surprisingly well-lit and tastefully decorated. Dean darted his eyes around, looking for a threat but again, finding nothing. 

He turned slightly so he could see the others, relaxing his hold on his weapon. Sam caught his eye and shrugged, not seeing anything either. Rowena, however, had a finger pressed to her lips in the universal signal for quiet, so they all remained that way. 

She dropped her finger and closed her eyes, her arms hanging loosely by her sides.

It was clear that she was pushing out her consciousness again to locate the witch. Rowena’s eyes had opened but all they were showing were the whites. 

With every moment of silence that passed, the room seemed to grow darker and colder. Even the colour seeped from their surroundings and there was a definite buzz in the air. They barely had time to acknowledge the fact that something _was_ happening before Rowena collapsed onto the floor, shuddering, but still eerily quiet.

Sam stowed his gun and kneeled down on the floor by Rowena, prepared to roll her over on her side when a loud voice cut through the air,

“Hands off that witch! Lest her fate becomes your own.”

Sam’s movements stilled as his head shot up, looking around for the one who had spoken.

Dean had inched closer to Castiel, who had his angel blade at the ready and seemed to be staring up the staircase at something Dean could not see. There was _darkness_ there. Not just an absence of light, but a darkness like a void, and it slithered down the topmost stair. 

“Hmmmm...” the voice continued, “It was so _easy_ to get you all in here. But it wasn’t like I couldn’t smell the angel from all the way up the road.”

“Ain’t nothing _easy_ about us.” Dean growled out, thumbing the safety of his gun and getting a good grip after cocking the hammer back.

There was a shock of booming laughter as the darkness continued rolling down the staircase, inching closer. 

Rowena continued to writhe on the floor, accompanied by gurgling noises, her movements becoming more violent as she shuddered. 

In a flash Dean registered that there was someone standing in front of him and he got one look at the witch as she questioned, with a distinctly smug look on her face,

_“Nothing?”_

He didn’t see the fingers hooked into claws before she raked them across the skin of his abdomen, slicing his shirt and the skin underneath to ribbons, effectively tearing through the sigils that were inked there.

Dean felt the blood begin to seep down his legs and wondered momentarily if he hadn’t been eviscerated by her deadly claws. All it took was another moment and he was using his quickly-failing strength and consciousness to bring the gun up again, not hesitating to pull the trigger. 

There was a click. 

He cocked it back and tried again. _Click._

The witch laughed as she whirled out of the way of Castiel leaping towards her with his blade poised and ready, trying to keep it steady and deliver any blow that he could manage. As he stumbled to the side, she shouted out a spell that Dean was now helpless against and he was tossed in the air and thrown across the room and into a wall. 

“Dean!” Sam shouted, from where he was still kneeling on the floor by Rowena.

Sam had his gun raised and aimed the witch, cocking the hammer and pulling the trigger, not even caring if the bullet went wild, just that he was able to discharge the weapon at all would be a blessing. Like Dean’s attempt, the gun gave a few clicks but nothing more than that.

The witch stood still, one hand thrown behind her evidently used to keep Dean from rising. Not that he was able to, stumbling along the edges of unconsciousness as he was.  
She was laughing as she sensed Dean’s feeble movements behind her. 

Castiel knew he needed to get to Dean in order to heal him, but any attempt he made would put the witch too close and he needed his Grace in order to save Dean. 

He stood stock still as the witch drifted closer to him. He tried to take a step back before she got close enough, but found that it was almost impossible to have his vessel obey his command to move. 

Closer and closer she moved until she was right in front of Castiel’s face and she had captured his gaze into her own. He saw movement in her eyes. The swirling, shining, electric blue of... _Grace._

The shock of that discovery must have shown on her face because she answered,

“Yes, Angel, it is Grace. Just enough...” she clenched her hand in Sam’s direction, “...to do this...” 

She trailed off, still clenching her hand as Sam began to cough and heave and convulse on the floor.

“Now would you dare to move against me? I could fix the both of them with a snap of my fingers, but in the same breath I could kill them. _Your family._ Your _beloved._ Surrender the remainder of your Grace to me...” She trailed off as the colours in her eyes swirled faster, hypnotizing Cas as he now recognized the light of the Grace there.

His.


	15. Grace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 chapters today because I am so close to being done that I am getting anxious and I want to have a resolution for those of you who stuck around.

Castiel’s _own_ Grace was the light in her eyes. It was true that his Grace was being used to choke Sam to breathless gasps, but would his Grace not recognize Dean, at least? He remembered the witch tearing through the sigils on Dean’s body before throwing him into a crumpled heap against the wall, where he was slowly, but surely bleeding out. 

He let loose a growl as his own Grace reacted at her utter _daring_ , and it broke the hold she had over him. His legs moved forwards as if he was wading through drying cement, but his eyes were shining with all of the power that his true form possessed. 

He began to speak, and echoing his words was the high-pitched ringing of his true voice.

“You will not take what is mine and use it against me or those I love and protect! I will burn my own Grace from you even if it takes me along with it!”

“Yes, Angel, get angry. Your power gives _ME_ power and I _will_ have the rest of it!” She shouted through the noise.

She raised both of her hands and strode forwards to clap them to either side of Castiel’s face and he was suddenly helpless to resist as he could feel his Grace swirl up through his centre. He could feel how corrupt her soul was, burned away by countless years – _centuries_ maybe – of practicing the blackest of black magic. He could feel how the theft of other witches magic had turned her, and had made her own gifts exponentially stronger. His long, dark hair was whipping around his face as he watched the witches eyes flare blue, and they crackled with unseen lightning. 

He could feel his Grace as it began peeking out from his mouth, his nose. It stung and he tried to will it to stop; to take a deep enough breath to suck it back in – if only it could have happened that easily, he couldn’t have taken a breath if he tried. 

His mind, what he could separate from the heavy task of keeping his Grace inside him for as long as he could, went to Dean. _Dean_. The name took shape in his mouth, and if it was the last thing he was ever able to push out from between his lips, then so be it. 

The witch never took her eyes off of Castiel’s, the light swirling faster now as some of Cas’ Grace surged forwards to probe at the slip of blue she had extended from her mouth.

Desperate now, Cas wrenched his arm from where it was pinned to his body and unclenched his hand that was holding the angel blade in a death-grip. He heard it clatter to the floor. He sent one last pulse of his own uncorrupted Grace towards Sam’s body, praying for Sam to accept his healing; _begging_ for Sam to figure out what Castiel needed him to do. 

He could feel the lights in his own eyes becoming weaker as he stared into the witch’s. His body was becoming heavy. She was taking his Grace and tucking it away within herself. Images of himself and Dean over the last couple of days were playing over in his mind’s eye as he called out to him.

Dean... _Dean..._

Before his eyes slammed shut behind heavy lids, he saw the witch’s gaze spark and stutter, growing bright one instant and then fizzling out, much like the light flickering in the presence of a spirit. Then there was a blast of light, and Cas was thrown backwards and away from the witch. He watched, even though the light burned his eyes, as the shining tip of an angel blade was thrust through her chest, the light slipping through the gaping hole as the blade pulled away. The witch was screaming and mewling as she descended to the floor, the blue light of Castiel’s stolen Grace pooling onto the floor below. 

Cas’ head shot up, looking to his saviour. 

It was Sam. His face was a rictus of pain; blood still pooling at the corners of his mouth. His chest was heaving and he slumped after the witch on his hands and knees, gasping at the air that he was being offered. 

Castiel wasted no time after that, using the rest of his strength to lunge after Sam’s forgotten weapon and using his Grace to disassemble the gun so the bullets scattered over the floor. He kneeled down and grabbed the closest one and narrowed his eyes as he glared at the witch, holding the witch-killing bullet in between his fingers.

“I hope this hurts.” Castiel growled, before gripping the bullet tightly and glaring at her as he clapped it to the side of her head, forcing it through the thin skin of her temple. He used his Grace to aid him in pushing the bullet in as far as he could, and hoping it would be far enough before the darkness crept over him and pulled him under at last.

* * * * *

Dean felt... _warm_. He felt both comfortable and _comforted_. There were soft words tripping around in his head that he knew he would not have uttered for himself, but they were lighting up various nerve endings in his brain, attempting to bring his consciousness back online.

Images were beginning to float around. Sam, with his furrowed brows and concerned expressions. Castiel, looking more pale and drawn than usual. His perpetual scruff appearing like a bruise over his lower jaw. Even Rowena, with a small smile alight on her face. 

Hushed voices were playing around his ears and he realized that he was hearing things in real time. All he needed to do was open his eyes, which he wasn’t sure he wanted to do at the moment. 

“Dean, c’mon man. Time to wake up.” Sam called to him, as hesitant as he was quiet. 

The timbre of Sam’s voice was what finally did it. It was so _deep_. So unlike the high, clear trill that Dean had been hearing for the past few days as they navigated their femininity. 

Dean slowly opened his eyes to the bright room around him. His eyesight was fuzzy at best as he shook his head, trying to clear it so he might be able to bring things into focus.

“MmmSammy...?” He mumbled.

“Yeah. Yeah man, it’s me.” Sam said, huffing out a relieved sigh as he moved his head into Dean’s line of sight.

Dean propped his head up a little more to take in Sam’s appearance. He looked more like the Sam that Dean was used to seeing; hair to his shoulders, facial hair adorning the familiar strong jaw. Distinctly male in appearance. 

He tried for a smile as he said “Good to see you, Sammy.” 

Dean continued to look around until his eyes found Rowena, who was looking at him kindly, if a little wistfully. He tried to rise but it was hindered a little by a weight on his legs.  
Looking down, he saw that it was Cas. Castiel, as he looked some days ago, although this version was a little more haggard, was draped over Dean’s legs with his hand splayed across Dean’s abdomen. 

Dean knew that he had healed him, much to the angel’s detriment. 

“You’ll have to give him a little bit,” Sam started, nodding to the unconscious angel, “He insisted on healing you himself. Wouldn’t even let Rowena near you.” 

“Growled at me, that one.” Rowena inserted.

Dean cleared his throat and tried to sit up straighter, allowing a hand to reach out for the angel’s shoulder.

“What happened to you?” He asked Rowena. 

“Well, as soon as I pushed out my conscious mind and found where she was hiding, she took it and locked me out of my body.” She had the decency to look apologetic, as she had approached them for help with this job.

“Problem solved, though, right? Is she dead?” Dean asked, looking from one to the other.

“Yeah. She’s dead.” Sam looked over his shoulder where the witch lay. “I stabbed her with Cas’ angel blade. It bought enough time for Cas to... _man_ , it was awesome. He just picked up a bullet and _shoved_ it into her.” 

Dean grinned at Sam, nodding his head to agree that it certainly _sounded_ awesome. 

Rowena had piped up again after rising and looking down on the corpse in disdain. 

“I don’t want to rush you, but before I finished healing up the world’s biggest little brother I summoned a few of my closer... _acquaintances_. We will have to deal with her body, as well as this land. We will have to burn the house to the ground and cleanse the area around it. I would suggest you take the angel and yourselves somewhere to rest. At least for the night. Poor dear is running on vapours.” 

Sam stood and held out his hand for Dean’s keys. 

“I’ll go bring the Impala around.” 

“Very good, Jeeves.” Dean said as he handed the keys to Sam. He was itching to remind Sam of how terrible the road was, but he knew Sam would do his best to navigate around the bigger ruts.

After Sam turned his back and made his way out the door, Dean moved his hand from Castiel’s shoulder to his head, which was pillowed on Dean’s thigh. He stroked his hair softly, marvelling at the way it slipped through his fingers. 

He called to him a few times, tried jostling him by bumping his leg up and down. Still, Castiel’s eyes remained shut.

“He might not wake for some time, my dear.” Rowena said softly. 

“He lost a lot of power in that struggle. Even more by healing you. I’m not sure he was totally coherent when he crawled over to you. Like I said, he wouldn’t have it any other way but to help you himself.” 

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, a curl of worry making itself a home in Dean’s chest.

Rowena continued, “It wasn’t the entirety of the angel’s Grace in that charm. She had already taken some for herself the night of the festival. She was in the process of taking more when your brother stabbed her. He sacrificed a portion of his own Grace in order to make her weak enough for the coup de gras.”

Dean looked down at the angel, his hand still sweeping through the dark and unruly mop of hair. 

“Is he...” Dean trailed off, not really wanting the answer to any of the questions he was trying to ask.

_Is he human now? Is he going to wake up? Is he going to die?_

“He needs rest. And love.” Rowena said simply, before moving away to the front door that still stood open after Sam’s departure.

Love. 

Dean contemplated that. He knew he could give the angel rest. Hell, he knew _he_ was going to take it easy for the next twenty-four hours _at least_ before making another 26 hour drive back home. It was the _love_ part that was causing his heart to beat just a little faster in his chest.

He didn’t have too long to obsess over it before he could hear the sound of his beloved motor in the distance. 

He moved himself up from the floor, making sure not to disturb Cas too much as he rearranged his body so it would be easier to lift him. Once he had him secure in his arms in a bridal-style hold, he walked out to the porch and watched his Baby drawing steadily closer, Sam easing her over the deep holes in the driveway.

Sam didn’t say a word at the way Dean crawled into the backseat after they had gotten Cas laid out, and again, with his head in Dean’s lap. For that, Dean was grateful. Rowena’s words were still rolling about in his head, clashing with his own thoughts and feelings for Cas. 

It was a quiet drive back into Salem, and when they pulled into a different motel than they had left earlier, Sam had come back from the office carrying two different keys and passing one off to Dean.


	16. Confessions

Between the two of them, Sam and Dean managed to get Cas into one of the rooms and into the bed. As Dean fluffed an extra blanket over him, he heard Cas mumble out his name before curling himself onto his side and quieting again.

“You hungry?” Sam asked as he backed towards the door.

“Always.” Dean replied.

“Alright, I’ll be back in a bit then. Text me if he wakes up and wants anything.” Sam said, gesturing to the unmoving figure in the bed.

Dean nodded and closed the door. He locked it for good measure before walking softly back to the bed and gazing down at Cas with a fond half-smile on his face.

He toed his shoes off and sat gingerly on the side of the bed, eyes never wavering from where Cas lay. Dean pulled his feet up onto the bed, aligning his body with that of the angel’s. He draped his arm over Cas’ middle and snuggled into him, pulling him close into his chest so he could bury his nose into Castiel’s hair.

He took a deep breath in, his senses tickled with the smell of the other man. He smelled no different than he had earlier. He rubbed his nose into Castiel’s hair lightly, committing the scent to memory.

As he continued to absent-mindedly nuzzle into Cas’ hair, he couldn’t help but think that today could have been _it_ for him. He didn’t know _exactly_ how deep that bitch had clawed him, but it felt pretty deep at the time. He definitely remembers _feeling_ himself bleeding out...

Dean angled his head down and the movement caused their identically scruffy cheeks to catch lightly. It caused goosebumps to rise on the back of Dean’s neck.

...And then came Castiel, already weakened from having some of his Grace ripped away, using his failing strength to heal Dean’s wounds...

Before Dean can think about what he’s doing, he’d pressed his lips to the bolt of Cas’ jaw, making sure to drag his lips across the stubble a little bit. The prickly sensation caused his breath to hitch in his chest. He kissed his way to the middle of Cas’ chin before the rest of his face was lost to the pillow underneath.

...And if Cas hadn’t come to his rescue when he did...Dean didn’t even want to contemplate the rest. _To just...cease to exist? To leave Sam? To leave_ Cas? Dean pulled the angel closer and it seemed to loosen the anxious knot in Dean’s chest as he thought about the finality of it. Now that he knew what he could _maybe_ have with Cas made it a little easier to breathe. So he did, and he breathed in a smell that was distinctly Cas, grounding him firmly.

Dean thought briefly about keeping his lips to himself. Cas was sleeping. But damn, if Dean didn’t want to press their lips together to see if the motion kindled the sparks in his chest the way it had only this morning. 

After a brief war inside his own head, where Dean wrestled with wanting to brush his lips over the sleeping angel’s and holding back because Cas couldn’t consent right now to kissing another dude, the gravitational pull of Castiel’s plush, pink lips became too much and Dean’s gentlemanly resolve crumbled. He pressed his lips lightly against Cas’.

The goosebumps were back. Beginning at the base of his neck and running the length of his back and across his arms. For a fraction of a second, he pressed harder before backing off completely.

He heard the quietest of whines as he did so, Dean’s eyes flying from where he was looking at Cas’ lips up to Cas’ eyes, which were only open enough to allow the thinnest sliver of blue to show.

“Dean...?” Cas whispered, as he rubbed his face into the pillow.

“I’m here Cas.” Dean whispered back, cupping the back of Cas’ head and dropping a tender kiss on his forehead.

A hand reached up from under the covers and pressed itself to Dean’s cheek, running a thumb over the scruff on his jaw. Cas simultaneously raised his head up and pulled Dean’s face down until their lips were pressed together tenderly.

Dean felt a warm fluttering in his chest, briefly, before he felt the angel freeze up, and the hand that had been previously cupped to Dean’s cheek was now pressed against his chest in an attempt to push Dean away.

“Dean, I...I’m—I don’t know what came over me...” He scrambled for words, his eyes wide as he attempted to put some distance between them, his hand still pressed to Dean’s chest.

Dean covered Cas’ hand with his own and spoke lowly, “None of that, Cas. Technically, I started it.”

They stared at each other; Cas was searching Dean’s face intently, looking deep into his eyes.

When Dean shivered under his gaze, Castiel slowly moved closer and Dean met him halfway. He let Cas control the ebb and flow of their lips. He had to, because as soon as Cas’ tongue stroked the seam of Dean’s lips, most of Dean’s higher processes fled as sparks of arousal heated him from the inside out.

He didn’t really know what he was expecting. Was he expecting it to feel different? Because physically, yeah it felt different; but just a few hours ago he had been physically different too. But that...good feeling, that content feeling of _completion_ in his chest was the same thing he had felt the first time he ever kissed Cas.

_But this is still the same Cas you fell in love with._ He thought to himself, as he opened his mouth to Cas’ wandering tongue and let it slip in alongside his.

Dean let his hand come up and play over Cas’ jaw, stroking against the grain of his stubble, and smoothing back down, his hand trailing down the exposed column of Castiel’s neck.

Cas moved his body upwards, pushing Dean down into the bed and Dean let him. Adjusting his legs so Cas could hitch one over Dean’s and press against him created an incredible heat where their bodies made contact.

It was made hotter still when Cas moved his mouth from Dean’s lips to kiss across the stubble on his chin. It seemed that Cas, too, liked the feeling of the catch and pull across his lips if the hitch in his breath was anything to go by.

Dean ran his hand down Castiel’s body until it reached the leg that was settled overtop of Dean’s and he wrapped his hand around the back of his thigh.

Cas gasped into Dean’s ear, the lobe he had been nibbling on forgotten as Dean rolled them over and made a spot for himself in between Castiel’s legs and bringing their lips together once more.

Dean rolled his hips into Cas’, the movement causing a pleasant friction against his budding arousal. He grabbed the back of Cas’ thigh again and rolled his hips up again, this time pulling Cas’ body up to meet his. He could feel Cas hardening beneath him as he did it once more before Cas caught on to the movements.

They were all shaky breaths, and barely-there moans as they rutted against each other. Dean’s left hand ensnared in Castiel’s right, their free hands tangling into the other’s hair or sliding down the other’s body.

Dean was trying to decide if he was going to take off his own shirt, or Cas’ first when he heard Sam’s knocking pattern on the door.

Shit. But... _food._

He pulled away from Cas reluctantly, breathing heavily. The angel whined underneath him.

“This isn’t over, Cas.” Dean promised as he dropped a wink at the flushed angel, breathing just as heavy as Dean was, his eyes dark with arousal. “Sam brought us back something. You should probably eat a little.”

As if on cue, Castiel’s stomach announced itself and he sighed. Moving off towards the bathroom to compose himself as Dean stood to answer Sam at the door.

Dean opened the door and reached for one of the two drink trays he held in his hands, as well as one of the bags.

“I ended up getting Cas the same thing as you, no pickles.”Sam said, as he emptied out the fast food bags and sat down at the small table.

“He is kinda hungry.” Dean admitted, passing Sam one of the drinks from the tray.

Sam raised his eyebrows and smirked towards the side of Dean’s neck. “I can tell.”

It took Dean a second to process Sam’s words, but when he did, he brought his hand up to cover his neck where he remembered Cas leaving a mark on his skin. Dean could feel his face heat up and he smiled softly.

“Shut up.” He huffed lightly to Sam.

“Jerk.” Sam said, affectionately.

Dean returned an equally affectionate “Bitch” before he started unwrapping his burger but before he brought it up to his mouth, he paused and put it back down on the table.

“Listen, Sam...” He started, his tone now serious, “Things are gonna be a little...uh... _different_ with me and Cas. We um.” Dean paused to take a breath. He was actually starting to sweat a little bit.

“We had some time to talk about...certain things. I mean, we had sex too, but I also kinda admitted how I feel about him.” Dean continued, looking into Sam’s eyes, which were wide open with this new revelation from his brother.

Sam broke out into a grin that said everything that Dean figured it said, which was _Finally_. He did reach out and grasp Dean by the shoulder in a gesture of solidarity.

“I just didn’t want you to think we were sneaking around, or that I was trying to hide it or anything.” He finished.

Sam gave Dean a wide smile and reached to squeeze his shoulder again before saying softly, “I’m proud of you, man.”

Dean nodded and reached for his burger again, making a show of taking as big of a bite as he was able to, if only to stop any more of his _feelings_ from leaking out all over the table. He would keep those for himself as much as he was able to. Although, he swore he had never blushed even half as much as he had these past few days.

When Castiel had come out of the bathroom again, looking a little more together than he had looked when he was sprawled wantonly underneath Dean, Sam had a “Congratulations” for him too. Cas looked so pleased with himself that Dean couldn’t keep the smile off of his face.

Dinner passed just the same as all their meals together; Dean and Sam poking fun at each other, Cas trying to referee, even if he did take Dean’s side a little more often. Dean wasn’t afraid to swing his arm over Cas’ shoulders as they were relaxing after their meal. It was as natural as breathing.

It was as they all bid each other goodnight, and Dean was fluffing up the pillows that he was overwhelmed with a feeling. It was a warmth in his chest that made him giddy. He had everything he could want from this hunting life; he was back in his own body, everyone was healed up, the witch had been vanquished...All he needed to do now was get them back home and investigate that _self care_ thing Rowena had been talking about in more detail. He was still too young yet to think of hanging up his weapons for good, but it wouldn’t hurt for them to take it easy on themselves in their downtime.

When he settled down in the bed, he turned and wrapped Cas up in his arms, slotted up behind him and held him tight.

Good things _do_ happen. Even to Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tags say M/M, so I gotta deliver on the M/M, I'm not gonna leave you hanging.


	17. Epilogue

Dean eased the Impala into the bunker’s garage and shut off the engine, raising both hands into fists and shaking them in quiet celebration. He was _home_. Finally. Why he thought it would be a good idea to barrel straight across half the country without stopping, except for gas, food, and for Sammy to take a turn at the wheel, he had no idea. 

But they were home. 

Sam was spread over the back seat, snoring lightly. Cas was curled into the window, his breath fogging the glass.

Dean reached over and tickled his index finger over Cas’ exposed neck, snickering as the angel tried to rearrange himself.

He tried again, this time calling Cas’ name softly.

“Cas...Caaaas...we’re home, buddy.” 

That got enough of a response that Dean turned to the backseat and tried the same with Sam, who flailed his hands, trying to push Dean away. 

“C’mon Sam, or I’ll leave you out in the garage.”

As Dean opened the door and stepped out, he could hear grousing from the both of them, but there was a little more movement as Dean shouldered his duffle from the trunk. 

The other two were slowly extracting themselves from the vehicle and stumbling towards the doors that would lead them inwards, and to real beds. 

Yawns were exchanged all around as they walked through the warren-like hallways and into the library.

All three of them were startled as a loud snap sounded from the vicinity of the far table and the lights came on.

“Welcome home boys.” Came a high-voiced greeting. 

“Jesus, Rowena,” He admonished, putting a hand over his heart. “What the hell, I thought you had to be invited in.” 

“That’s _vampires_ , my dear.” She quirked back. “I had to come by and thank you. I figured you would want to know what ended up happening after you left.” 

“Yeah, you’re right.” Dean agreed, heaving the duffle onto the table. 

When everyone had settled, Rowena began explaining how she thought the spell had worked. Admitting, however, that she wouldn’t know for sure until she had located the spellbook that was used. Because _of course_ it was missing. 

“It may have started out with a play for the other witch’s power, but as soon as she knew there was an angel on the field, she switched tactics and getting your grace became her top priority. There were a lot of different kinds of magic being used that night. My acquaintances agree that what happened to you was the best thing that could have happened.”

“So, what about the book?” Sam asked, “Was it at the house?” 

Rowena shook her head. “There wasn’t much in the way of evidence of her craft. The odds and ends of easy spells, mostly. She would have practiced somewhere else. It will take a little while to track down all of her hiding places...if you want in? She threw in slyly, sweeping her eyes over the three of them.

They all shook their heads and voiced varying degrees of _No_.

Sam looked deep in thought for a moment before he recanted his No. 

“You know, you owe us now, Rowena.” He stated. “We know how to summon you here, and we could do it whenever we felt like.”

She had turned wary eyes on Sam as he continued, almost to himself, “That kind of book, with that kind of power...Can’t have it falling into the wrong hands...”

Where Sam left off, Dean picked up: “You’re going to have to check in with us, either by courtesy or by force.”

“I suppose you’re going to want the whole bloody book!” Rowena cast bitterly, glaring from one brother to the other.

“Well, that depends.” Dean bargained, catching Sam’s eyes before Sam piped up again,

“If you find the book, we would expect that you bring it here and explain it to us. If it’s too dangerous to be out in the world, then you leave it here.”

“But—” Rowena tried to interject, but was cut off.

“Do you want to be the one that we’re hunting down?” Dean asked, “Again?” 

“Oh, all right,” She groused, “A deal is a deal, _I suppose_. You’ll find I honour those more than my _son_.”

Dean shared a quick conspiratorial glance with Sam, they both knew the book would end up in with the other tomes that lined the bunker’s bookshelves soon enough.

* * * * *

Dean wasn’t even sure what time it was. His body demanded rest, that’s all he knew. After they had bickered back and forth with Rowena on the fate of the spellbook he had taken the first shower, changed into some comfortable pants and stumbled to his room to wait for Cas. His back had missed the memory foam, and he grinned as it seemed to remember him. He snuggled down into his blankets and waited.

The door opened a few seconds later, and Cas stepped into the room wearing only a pair of Dean’s track pants.

Dean sucked in a sharp breath as he saw all the _skin_ that was offered. Cas’ hair was damp from the shower, the smell of Dean’s body wash was permeating the air.

“You look hot in my clothes, Cas.” Dean stated, with a little growl in his voice.

“Quite the opposite, I’m a little chilled from the temperature in the hallway, actually.” He replied with a smirk.

Dean grinned and threw back the covers gesturing for Cas to get in with him. He bounced his eyebrows at him as he said, “There’s plenty in here to warm you up.” 

Castiel wasted no time in crawling into the space Dean had made for him, propping himself up on his elbow and looking down at Dean fondly. 

Dean raised his hand to Cas’ cheek and pulled him down willingly into a sweet kiss that seemed to take his breath away. He continued to kiss and nibble at Castiel’s lips as he breathed the other man in, scenting the spicy cedar smell of Cas underneath the sharply clean scent of Dean’s regular soap.

Cas moaned and opened his mouth to the pressure of Dean’s tongue, letting it slide in to undulate against his own. 

Dean tangled his hand in the angel’s hair, gripping it and tugging lightly as he felt arousal burn across his skin. 

Cas teased the hand that had come to rest on Dean’s cheek down to the point where his neck met his shoulder. 

Dean broke the kiss with a shudder when Cas brushed over the spot where his handprint used to be. Cas used this to his advantage and brought his mouth to the column of Dean’s throat, where he nibbled lightly as he made his way down. Dean tipped his head back, giving the angel more room in which to mark him. 

When Cas grazed his nipple with the scruff of his chin, Dean gasped and clutched at Castiel’s hair harder, causing him to groan before latching his mouth to it. He suckled lightly and Dean arched his back into it. 

Dean stroked his other hand down Castiel’s body, over the rippling muscles of his back, not hesitating to grab the tops of _his_ pants that Cas was filling out so nicely, and push them down. Cas was on board with that idea, as he raised his body off of Dean’s to help push them down, gasping into Dean’s ear as his cock sprang free. 

Dean moaned at the sound and pulled Cas back in for a kiss, as he rolled their bodies on their sides, facing each other. He broke the kiss again to push his own pants down, kicking them off his ankles and twining his legs with Cas’.

It was Castiel that reached and pulled him in this time, pressing his body flush with Dean’s. Dean wrapped his arm around Cas’ lower back, splaying his hand wide so that his pinky finger was just brushing the top of his cleft. He pushed himself against Cas, grinding his hips and his erection alongside Cas’ as he held him tightly.

The movement punched a groan from Cas. 

“That’s it, Cas,” Dean breathed across his lips, “lemme hear you...”

He circled his hips again, prompting another dark groan from Cas.

“Dean,” He gasped, his eyes shuttering at the divine pressure of their cocks sliding together. 

“Oh _fuck_ , Cas...” Dean whimpered. He was going to lose it, and quickly.

Dean found himself thinking, mostly to stave off his orgasm, that he had no idea it was going to feel like _this_ with another guy. _Not another guy,_ Dean thought, _Cas. This is Cas you’re tangled up with, naked, writhing against, making him call out your name as you slide your—_

And there he was, on the precipice again. So, instead of thinking about it, he just _lived_ it. Pushing his mouth against Cas’ just to taste him again, the angel panting against his lips when he pulled away. 

Dean turned a little and reached around behind himself to snake a hand up under his pillow to pull out the lube he had put there, having had no expectations whatsoever. He’d been optimistic, and judging by the way Cas was now tracing a hand over Dean’s abdomen and getting lower, maybe the angel had some expectations of his own.

Needless to say, it still came as surprise when Cas reached down and cupped Dean’s balls in his hand and tugged lightly, lighting up every nerve in Dean’s lower extremities. 

Dean bucked his hips and grunted. He was really trying to keep it together, but with the way Cas was touching him, and the look on Cas’ face as he touched him...He had already resigned himself to the fact that he was never going to last near long enough to either push himself inside the angel, or have Cas inside of him so he made an executive decision once he palmed the lube. He rolled them over again and pushed himself up off of the angel, to kneel between his legs. Cas whined and reached out for him.

Dean clasped the lube in his one hand, and brought the other one up to splay on Cas’ chest, dragging his hand downwards. He chuckled as Cas raised his hips, his erection standing proudly, begging for Dean’s attention. 

“Patience, Cas.” Dean spoke lowly around the angel’s gasps. 

Dean opened the bottle and squeezed some of the slippery substance into his hand, giving it a moment to warm. He then caught Cas’ eye as his hand grasped Cas’ cock firmly. He hummed in satisfaction at the feel of it in his hand; hot, hard, and velvety smooth as he stroked it, spreading the lube up and down his shaft before twisting his wrist slightly, just under the head, causing Cas to utter something nonsensical as he thrust his hips up. 

Dean pulled his hand away, much to Cas’ dismay. His hips hitched upwards at nothing as he ground out “ _Dean_ please...oh _please_ don’t stop...” his voice deep and rough as he lost himself in this new sensation. 

He soothed the wanton angel as he opened the bottle again and made a show of squeezing out some more lube before taking himself in hand. He watched Castiel’s pupils dilate as he watched Dean stroke himself, spreading the lube around and moaning when his fist slipped off the sensitive head. 

Dean moved to lean over Cas again, propping himself up with one arm as he pressed their groins together, shuddering at the sensation. He felt Cas roll his hips under him, the lube creating no resistance as they slipped and slid together. The pressure and the friction were already causing a stirring in Dean’s abdomen. 

He quickly reached down with his already-slippery hand and grabbed at both of their cocks, creating a channel with his hand and squeezing around them both until he saw stars. 

He thrust his hips, pushing himself into the tunnel of his hand and against Cas, who moaned as their lengths slid against each other. Cas thrust up from the bottom, dragging his dick alongside Dean’s. 

“Cas... _Cas_...Oh fuck you feel so good...” Dean panted as their thrusting became faster. He squeezed a little tighter, and felt Cas become even harder in his hand. 

Dean’s eyes were glued to Cas’ face, watching as he fell apart. He was panting and moaning as he pushed himself up into Dean’s hand once... _twice_...before his body locked up and he was spilling between them, chanting Dean’s name as he came. 

Dean looked down at the mess on Cas’ stomach and chest and growled low in his throat, panting out “Oh...ohfuck _ohfuck_...” before he added to it, his cock twitching as he decorated the bare parts of Cas’ torso. 

He relinquished the tight hold he had on them both as they continued to thrust against each other, working themselves through their orgasms, and shuddering and pulling away when it became too much. 

Dean reached over the edge of the bed until his hand found something soft, someone’s shirt, and wiped his hand off before tenderly dragging it over the mess of their combined release. 

He smiled gently at Cas as he cleaned him up.

“Thank you, Dean.” Cas said softly, returning the same smile while Dean’s heart swelled. 

He flopped over on his back and held his arms out to gather Castiel closer to him, curling him in close so he could lay his head on Dean’s chest. They were comfortable enough to begin drifting off to sleep when Dean registered that his bedside table lamp was still on. He grumbled about it, and made to move from the spot where he had _just_ made himself comfortable, _dammit_. 

“I got it, Dean,” Cas murmured, “I should have just enough power to do that, at least.” He raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

They were plunged into darkness a second later, but it was because the light bulb shattered. 

Cas sighed in defeat as Dean chuckled about it, dropping a kiss to the top of Cas’ head. 

“Cas, never, ever change.”

He wrapped Cas up in his arms again, squeezing tight once, and fell asleep thinking already about how he was going to wake up with his _-HIS-_ angel in his arms.

*The End*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, thanks for reading! I have a series in the works that I'm pretty excited about, so stick around, I have a few more...idk, do we call them surprises at this point?


End file.
